


The Player and the Coach

by Flightglow32



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightglow32/pseuds/Flightglow32
Summary: Sick of her friends teasing about her lack of ability on a broom Hermione decides to try out of the Montrose Magpies. Everyone is shocked to find that Hermione can fly. Hermione joins the team. Malfoy family investments are kept secret. Now being run by Narcissa she offers her son the chance to coach the team. She hopes to push her son together with the new player.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be fairly fast as I'm editing and moving over from ffn. Once I get to new material the pace will slow.

Everyone was laughing at her. Again.

Hermione was sick of this. Every time Quidditch was mentioned she was excluded or ridiculed.

Just because she'd had different priorities at school didn't mean she was uninterested in the sport. She’d only missed matches when she was in the hospital wing. Her history of dating Viktor Krum, Cormac McLaggen, Ron Weasley and Oliver Wood should show that she wasn't completely averse to the sport.

Puberty hadn't exactly been her friend. Dizziness and growth spurts gave her a few balance problems until everything settled down. During her teenage years, taking her hand off the broom to handle anything had made her feel she was about to fall. Vertigo on a broomstick was not fun. She’d never felt able to relax and enjoy herself.

Now, she could sit quite comfortably on a broom. She actually really enjoyed it. The rush of the speed, the wind in her hair, going fast enough to produce tears from her eyes. These were all things she loved about being on a broom.

Peals of laughter broke through the room again. Ginny played Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies while Ron played Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. They'd been discussing the Montrose Magpie's problems with keeping a decent Seeker. So much so they'd announced open tryouts for three weeks time.

All she said was maybe she'd tryout. Of course, she could never be anything other than a bookworm know-it-all to them. She'd show them. She'd make the team. She'll make them eat their words.

Later that day, she sent off an order for a brand new Lightningbolt. The successor to the Firebolt had been dedicated to Harry. He owned one that she'd ridden a time or two. She liked the feel of it. She found the handle easier to grip than some.

When her broom arrived, she'd already made her plan. Near her childhood home was a large forest with a huge clearing she had loved to play in as a child. She'd often camped in it. She Apparated to a spot close to it and made her way closer on foot. It's exactly the way she remembered it

No one was there. Nothing stirred in the forest. She pulled out her wand and began casting protection spells.

She hadn't brought them here when they were on the run. She couldn't bear to taint her place of fun and imagination with memories of war.

As a child, her favourite game here had been pretending she was a witch. Hermione smiled to herself as she's reminded of the memories of that little girl who would run around the clearing holding a large stick between her legs. She'd pretend she could fly on a broom.

If only her younger self had known it really was possible. She gripped her broom, mounting it. She felt her inner child giggle as she kicked off.

Hermione felt her braid slap against her back as it’s buffeted by the air that rushes past her. She's never tested a broom to its full limits before.

Hermione told no one what it was that was occupying her time over the next three weeks. They assumed she's lost herself in some new research project. They weren't completely wrong.

Hermione spent every spare moment on her makeshift Quidditch pitch.

By the time the day of the try-outs comes around she feels ready.

Hermione knows she's good.

She pulled on her generic Quidditch leathers, tightly braided her hair, and collected her broom before Apparating to the stadium.

There must have been nearly a hundred witches and wizards queueing to sign up. The witch she gave her name to did a double take. She's used to it now. With her hair braided back, she isn't instantly recognisable to most people. She preferred it that way.

The first round was some basic drills. Each of them was given a number to pin to their back as they fly. She smirked as she gets number seven. The number she hopes to fly with on the team.

The stadium is limited access during tryouts, but of course Harry, Ginny, Ron and George are there. When they spot her they started laughing. She grinned and waved at them. This is the last time they'll laugh at her Quidditch skills.

Behind one-way smoky glass, a blonde woman with crystal blue eyes, smiled with delight as she spotted the witch. Her eyes remained fixed on her as she excels in the basic drills and advanced drills progressing to the final sixteen.

Harry and the others knew Hermione could probably cope with the basic drills. Despite their teasing, they hoped she wouldn't make a fool of herself. The few reporters who were there had been watching her eagerly, quills going mad when she first stepped out.

They watched in awe as she made it through the both the basic and advanced drills with ease.

"She's been practising," Harry said to the others as they watch her dive and pull up at the last second, toes skimming the ground.

Ron and Ginny nod as they watch her loop.

"She's... good," George said incredulous. "When did that happen?"

"I think we know what the "research project" she's been so busy with over the last few weeks," Ron chuckled.

The last sixteen is a knock out stage. They're paired up with their closest remaining number, the Golden Snitch is released, the one who catches it stays the one who misses has to leave.

The stadium watched with bated breath as Hermione and her partner are last to go. Most of the eliminated have chosen to stay and watch. Overall roughly a thousand people are in the stadium watching.

As each pair stepped onto the pitch, their names were announced. Hermione awaited the inevitable reaction her name will arouse in the crowd. She gripped her broom tighter, nerves fluttering in her stomach as she looked at her rival. He's bulkier than she is, which might give her the advantage but she's never raced someone else for the snitch before.

It's time. The announcer is saying her name and she's stepping out.

Silence descended on the stadium before whispering broke out. When the crowd saw that it is in fact THE Hermione Granger, the war hero, they goes crazy. She mounted her broom blushing a little at the cheers as her rival glanced at her nervously, now taking seriously the small woman he was paired to race.

Narcissa crossed her fingers discreetly in the folds of her robes. She's supposed to be an impartial witness here, at the team she owns. The terms of her investment don't allow her to make player decisions. She has one clause she can use to make changes to the management team. If today goes the way she wants it too, she will enact it.

On the blow of the whistle they took off. Moments later a second blow announces the snitch has been released from one of four points around the stadium. Her focus narrowed as the crowd fell away, she's barely aware of her rival as she scanned the stadium. She saw it, her rival is closer but hasn't noticed. She floated towards him, carefully trying not to arouse his suspicions. She keeps the Snitch in the corner of her eye as she moves. Once she's in a more advanced position she lurched forward, using every ounce of speed her broom has to offer. Before he's had time to do much more than spin his broom in the right direction, the ball is in her fist. She raised it in the air, the same way she watched Harry do so on so many occasions.

The crowd went wild. She looked at her friends to see them cheering. She's made the final eight.

Her second catch was easier than the first. The little golden ball flew right past her face, she caught it seconds later. She's in the final four.

The next one was a little trickier. She had to race the pitch length for this one. Her opponent spotted it first. She placed her whole body down on the broom making herself as streamlined as possible to reduce drag. It helped. She stretched her arm out towards the Snitch her fingers grip the small ball as her opponent's hand flails to try to reach it first. She's in the final two.

She can't look towards her friends. She can't. She honestly hadn't expected to get this far. She wanted it. She just hadn't thought it was possible. Her final opponent has played Quidditch at a professional level. He's looking to move teams.

He tried chatting her up but she brushed him off. Not interested in his devious scheme to throw her off.

 

They step out on the pitch for the final round. After this, the one with the ball will be offered a spot on the team. The other might get a reserve position.

She mounted her broom taking off at the whistle. This opponent was different. She can tell the difference between someone who had already played professionally and someone who only aspired too. He's more comfortable on the broom. He made fewer unnecessary movements. There's a stillness that reminded her of a coiled spring. She saw it first. She hesitated not wanting to give him an advantage. Her second cost her as he darts off. She's right behind him but that's the last place she wanted to be.

They're neck and neck as they are led into a dive. She accelerated into the dive causing him to do a double take. She skimmed the ground rolling the broom so she's flying sideways. She pulled herself upright as she stared down at her fist incredulous.

She did it. She caught it. Her rival is staring at her as if she's lost her mind.

"You went from that dive into flying sideways? Are you insane? A move like that could kill you," he shouted.

"But it didn't. Also, I caught the Snitch," she shouted back over the noise of the crowd. He flew away from her shaking his head.

She landed at the edge of the pitch as the rest of the team surrounded her.

 

Up behind the glass the owner grinned proudly. She turned to the club manager.

"You'll sign her yes?" She asks.

"Oh yes. After a move like that I'd sign her even if she missed it," he laughed. "She's a little rough around the edges, we may have to get a coach just to work with her but there's so much potential."

"What about my son? He could coach the girl," Narcissa suggests.

"You get him to the pitch and we'll take him," the manager knew he had no choice. She can add whatever staff she likes. He's not averse to having the boy there, so he's not inclined to make a fuss.

He hurried down to the pitch to welcome the girl. He pulled out the contract. She sank to the grass to read it fully. Once she's read it twice, she took the offered quill.

The manager was grinning from ear to ear. Raw talent and a war hero? Today couldn't possibly get any better.

 

Harry, Ginny, Ron and George are waiting just off the pitch for her.

Harry is the first to hug her.

"You definitely proved us wrong," Harry chuckled by her ear. "You'll have to teach me that side flying move." Harry said pulling away.

Ginny was there next.

"Me too, me too," Ginny bounced on her heels. Hermione laughed.

"Technically, you're the competition now."

"I'll teach you once she teaches me," Harry winked at Ginny making her blush a little. They may have decided a relationship just wouldn't work, that doesn't mean the attraction and the fire are lost. Hermione suspected there was more going on there.

Hermione spent the next two hours being interviewed by the press and filling out yet more paperwork. She's surprised at her starting salary. She'd been expecting much less. So much so that she checked with the assistant that was sorting the paperwork.

By the time she returned to her flat, she's long overdue a shower.

She rinsed out her hair thinking about tomorrow. Her first team practice and hopefully a chance to meet her new coach.


	2. Chapter 2

Narcissa Apparated home to the Manor, walking the halls to locate her son.

She found him in the swimming pool, floating across the surface. He spent a lot of time in here. She’s surprised he hasn’t wrinkled away.

After the war, she'd hoped he'd do something. Anything. That he'd make some effort to be seen doing something good.

In fact, all that had happened, was her son turning into a recluse.

She couldn't blame him really. Five times he went to Diagon Alley; he had never had a peaceful trip. After the last trip, where he'd received his third anonymous Crucio, he gave up going out.

Even after the ministry had taken their share, there was enough money left for several more generations of idleness. The problem was getting those generations.

She had set him up with every eligible witch she had connections too.

Those who had agreed to try had been chased off by his terrible temper and atrocious attitude.

One of the witches, as they were leaving had told her that her son, "was handsome until he opened his mouth."

That was not the boy she raised. When she'd pointed that out to her son, she'd been reminded by him that she had also raised a bigot. She wondered why she bothered sometimes. She knew they had a chance, they had connections they could build on, if only her son was prepared to swallow his pride, just a little.

However, no matter what scheme she came up with he shot her down. Nothing intrigued him anymore.

As she stood at the edge of the pool, watching him float, she considered the counter arguments he'd have for her today. She dipped her toes into the water, flicking her foot up, splashing the water across his face. She giggled as she watched her son flail to right himself before he turned to glare at her.

"That was childish, Mother," Draco said drifting away from her. Preventing her from splashing him again. She doesn’t need to now he’s acknowledged her presence.

"Yes, but it got your attention didn't it."

"What mad scheme are you trying to rope me into this time?" He asked feigning disinterest.

"Quidditch," she stated simply as she slowly paced the circumference of the pool. Dancing on her toes along the edge, arms out to keep herself balanced. She felt the water lap at her feet.

"I'm listening." More success than she’s had before. She hid her triumph concentrating on not slipping into the water. She has to handle him carefully. Giving him her full attention will give him nothing to work for. Her son always wanted attention.

"The team needs a coach for their new seeker. She's excellent but never played a match before. She trained on her own and taught herself," Narcissa told him, careful to avoid revealing the girl's identity just yet.

"I'm not bothering with some B-team player mother," he groaned.

"No. She's on the main team. She's the official seeker."

"Just from tryouts? No one is that good," Draco scoffed.

"Hermione Granger is." Narcissa shrugged as if this isn’t a massive revelation. She hoped she hadn’t played her ace too soon.

Draco laughed so hard his head dipped below the surface. He came up spluttering once more.

"That is quite possibly the funniest thing you've ever said, mother. You almost had me there. Granger doesn't fly."

"I left my memory in the Pensieve. Take a look before you make a decision," Narcissa demanded before leaving. She knew she'd made him vaguely interested at least. She can’t push it. She knew he’d look.

 

Curiosity got the better of him. He watched his mother leave before he moved. He can’t have her know how interested he is. She’ll never let it go. He just wanted a peek.

Draco pulled himself out of the pool, grabbing a towel to dry off as he walked. He didn’t bother dressing. The house is warm enough. He’d probably go back to the pool once he’s finished.

When he reached their Pensieve, he could see the memory simmering in the bowl. The faint glow rising off it. The Pensieve always looked alluring. He looked down as he prodded it with his wand, trying to catch a glimpse of the stadium.

He sighed before plunging into his mother's memory.

He arrived in the familiar box. Only his mother and the manager are present. He approached the glass and looked down. There are nearly a hundred witches and wizards on the pitch. Despite her hair being braided away from her face, he spotted her easily.

His eyes remained fixed on her as she excelled in both the basic and advanced drills.

He admitted to himself he's impressed. He didn't think she had it in her.

His mother left only the memories of the girl, so he doesn't see the other catches, only hers. That’s all he’s interested in seeing anyway.

She's sneaky, he appreciated that. As she flies close to where his mother was watching from, he can't help but notice how pretty she is. Was she always pretty? She might have been.

He tried to remember any gossip he's heard about the trio but can't. Is she with someone?

Draco watched as she made it to the final two. He saw her opponent attempt to flirt with her. He watched as she ignores him.

He grasped when she accelerated into a dive and when she rolled, flying sideways.

She's reckless and quite possibly one of the best players in the league.

She's going to get herself killed with moves like that.

If he had any doubts that the girl really was Hermione Granger, they vanish when he saw her sit on the grass to read her contract thoroughly.

After coming out of his mother's memories, he stared at the bowl, thinking.

Draco isn't even aware of what he's doing as he walks away from the Pensieve, up to his room.

He pulled on his Quidditch gear, grabbed his broom and threw open his window. This is the sort of decision best made on a broom. Flying has always been a great chance to think, almost as good as the pool.

He spent the remaining hours until dinner flying around the grounds.

He considered leaving the sanctuary of the Manor. A shudder ran through him at the prospect. It wouldn't be pleasant. Going beyond their boundaries never was.

But... he thought gripping his broom tighter.

 

His mother would usually complain when he turned up to dinner in Quidditch gear. Today she seems pleased.

"I take it you've been thinking," Narcissa smiled at him.

"What exactly would I be doing?" Draco slumped into his chair.

"Coaching the girl. Getting her match ready. That her fitness levels are sufficient. Making sure she knows everything she needs to know to succeed," his mother told him.

"Does she know about our families involvement in the club?"

"No. Of course not. Most players don't."

"She hates me," Draco pouted.

"Hate is a strong word, Draco. Give it a day, if it's truly awful don't go back. It's not like you have anything to lose," his mother reminded him.

He stared at his dinner rather than eat it, too distracted by his thoughts to notice.

Draco went to bed that night with a head full of Quidditch.

He ate breakfast before eight the next morning, an achievement in itself. Getting up with an alarm for the first time in years was painful. Narcissa bit her lip to avoid making a comment.

He's grateful when his mother doesn't ask him any questions about his plans, or the Quidditch gear he's wearing.

Draco was shaking slightly when he Flooed to the stadium, broom in hand. He's greeted by the manager of the team. The man smiled at him.

"Glad you could join us, Mr Malfoy," the man said holding out his hand for Draco to shake.

Draco accepted it. The man doesn't flinch. He does spend time with Narcissa wearing her public face, clearly he doesn't scare easily.

"Where do you think it's best to meet?" Draco's asked.

He's not sure which will be worse inside or outside.

"Are you aware I was at school with Granger? We have an unpleasant history," Draco cringed.

"Yes, yes your mother told me that. You're both adults now though, so it shouldn't be a problem, should it?"

"Not on my end, sir."

"By now it will probably be easier to catch the players on the pitch. Don't look so worried, what's the worst that can happen?" The man laughed.

Draco felt dread settle in his stomach. Every step feels heavy as he walked closer to the rejection he knew he's sure to face. His heart is beating out of his chest as he stepped out onto the pitch. He's following the manager. Her back is to them. She hadn't seen him yet. He could still run for it.

"Miss Granger, your coach has arrived," the man announced. He’s out of time to run. He’s not ready to face her.

Draco watched as if in slow motion as she turned around.

Recognition flashed in her eyes. She gasped.

"You?"


	3. Chapter 3

"You?" Hermione said harsher than she’d been intending.

She wasn't angry to see him, just surprised. She had heard he'd become a recluse, never venturing out of his family home.

Malfoy was staring down at the pitch. His grip on his broom was so tight, Hermione could see the whites of his knuckles. He was shaking slightly, breathing hard. She watched his eyes dart back and forth, despite that he’s not looking at her.

"I mean... hi," she corrected herself. His eyes looked up to meet hers. He visibly gulped.

"So you're my coach?"  

"Suppose." he shrugged. The manager has disappeared. She doesn’t blame him. "Where do you want to start?"

"I need to consult with the main coach first, then we'll get to work," Malfoy said before striding off.

She stayed where she was, waiting for him to come back. She knew the coach doesn't want her for the next few days.

He came back over to her and looked her up and down.

"You're the right build, I suppose. Has Potter taken you flying at all?" Malfoy asked going into business mode.

"Nope. He didn't know until yesterday, and after yesterday, I thought it would be good to take a break. He wants to fly together on Sunday," she told him.

"So everything you did yesterday, you taught yourself?" Malfoy asked incredulous.

"How do you know what I did yesterday?"

"My mother put her memories in the Pensieve. I watched you fly before I agreed to this."

"Oh," she blushed. Thousands have watched her fly, but for some reason, that he chose to watch her fly, feels different.

"How long have you been flying?"

"Well since first year..."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he cut her off.

"Three weeks."

"You flew like that after three weeks?"

She nodded.

"That's... impressive," he said as though for the first time he's taking her seriously.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why fly?"

She opened her mouth to answer and then stopped. A faint blush rose up her cheeks.

"You wouldn't understand," she said looking away from him.

He let out a frustrated groan.

"This isn't working," he sighed.

"It doesn't matter anyway. Why do you need to know why I want to fly?" Hermione huffed.

"Because you're Hermione Granger. Highest scoring N.E.W.T student Hogwarts has ever had. The girl who showed little to no interest in touching a broomstick, now wants to fly for one of the top clubs in the league. I don't know how much you heard about the Slytherin team under my captaincy, but Granger I am going to work you hard. I need to know that you want this, that this isn't just some scheme to prove people wrong, or worse a way to show your friends that you really can do everything. So why are you here and not off saving the world, doing something brilliant with that incredible brain of yours, popping out ginger babies or doing some massive research project. Why Quidditch when you're capable of anything?" Draco ranted at her. He's breathing hard, glaring at her.

Hermione is stunned under the force of his compliments. That's what they were right? Compliments.

She started with the easiest to answer.

"Okay first of all I won't be 'popping out ginger babies' anytime soon. Ron and I broke up after six months when we finally admitted we hadn't progressed beyond friendship and the occasional kiss. Secondly, I'm tired. Why should I have to be 'brilliant' all the time? I'm still young. I can pursue other interests later. At twenty-two, I'm old for a rookie. At thirty, thirty-five when a Quidditch career usually ends I'll still have plenty of time to return to academics. I can still do research projects but now I can linger over them. I won't have eight to ten of them owled to me everyday. Everyone wants my brain or my magical ability. This is my escape from being who everyone tells me I should be. The world can save itself for a while. I need a break," she shouted back.

"That I can work with," Malfoy said running a hand through his hair. He looked her over once more.

"How much gear do you have?" He asked. She's wearing what she wore yesterday.

"Just this. It's clean," she shrugged.

"The team will give you match gear but you're going to need more training gear. You'll need running gear, flying gear both lightweight and heavyweight, yoga gear and swim gear," he listed for her.

"Why will I need swim gear?" She asks.

"For swimming," he said slowly. "You need to do more than fly to be good in the air. Strength, endurance and flexibility are vital for good flying. You'll only be flying in the afternoons, the mornings will be dedicated to other physical pursuits," he grinned as she shifts uncomfortably.

"All your meals will be eaten here. Nothing passes your lips unless it's been checked with me. Before you complain, every member of the team here is on specially crafted diets. You need to build some muscles. I'll be eating with you, eating what you eat, it should make it easier for you. We'll meet for breakfast here, spend the morning working you physically. We'll have lunch and then spend the afternoon flying. Then we'll have dinner and talk over the flight and discuss the plans for the next day. Any problems with that?"

"Friday nights I go to dinner at Harry and Ginny's and Sunday's I have family dinner with the Weasley's," she said crossing her arms.

"That's fine. We're here six days a week. Two cheat meals won't destroy all our hard work. Sunday is your rest day so not too much flying," he ordered.

"Yes sir," she said sarcastically rolling her eyes at him.

"I know you don't like me very much. I don't care. No one likes me very much. But I will make you a better player."

Hermione felt herself soften when he said that no one likes him very much.

Was that true? Is that why he turned recluse? Does he not have any friends at all? Asking him outright won't do any good. She'll have to be sneaky.

"We've got two hours until lunch. I did want to start with exercises on the ground but as all you're dressed for is flying we'll start with that. After lunch, we're going shopping," he flinched.

"Harry and Ron hate shopping too. Although they're usually okay when it's Quidditch stuff," she shrugged.

"No, it's me. I'm not good in crowds. Or around people. I don't go out in public much. It never works out well for me," Draco admitted.

He was staring at the ground again, his chest rising and falling fast. His eyes were darting back and forth. She realised what she was seeing at. Draco Malfoy was... having a panic attack.

"We don't have to..."

"Yes we do. You need proper gear and you have no idea what you're looking for do you?"

"Well not all of it..."

"Exactly. Besides if I'm not with you, you'll probably end up in Gryffindor colours," he shuddered making her laugh. Malfoy looked at her surprised. Apparently, it'd been a while since someone found him funny.

Draco's lips quirked, almost as if he was attempting to smile.

"Mount your broom, rise a few feet and then set back down gently," he said.

She hesitated, he's making her start so basic.

He raised an eyebrow. Waiting for her to follow his directions.

She sighed as she did as he asked. He set his own broom on the floor to stand close to watch her.

Malfoy crossed his arms watching carefully as she did as he asked. After the most basic manoeuvre he could have asked of her, she began to dismount, he held up a hand to stop her.

He threw a leg over the broom positioning himself behind her. Hermione stiffened a little at the close proximity.

"You'll have to get used to us being close, touching even. Tomorrow, we'll be working on stretching, just like they are," he said by her ear pointing over to some of the other players.

The coaches were using their bodies to push the stretches of the players. Some of the positions they were in looked vaguely sexual. She blushed at the thought of doing that with Malfoy, it seemed so... intimate.

The back of his finger brushed down the heat of her face.

"Interesting," he smirked at her.

His arms wrapped around her to reach for her hands still holding the broom.

"Your grip is too tight. Have you flown hands free yet?" Malfoy muttered as his fingers brush across hers, feeling the tension in them.

"Have you ever been intimate with a man, Granger?" Malfoy breathed just behind her ear making her shudder. "I only ask because the analogy I was taught doesn't work if you've never touched a cock."

Something about the way he said _that_ word shot straight through her.

"I have," she told him staring down at their hands, avoiding the corner of her eye. Because if she looked there she would see his face, much too close to hers.

"Good. Now what we were taught in Slytherin was 'to never grip your broom tighter than you would your cock'. We never really had girls on the team but we can rearrange the words a little, 'never grip your broom tighter than you would the cock of the man in your bed'. Based on this how does your grip change? Show me," he ordered. His fingers were draped across hers gently, watching and feeling for the change.

Hermione relaxed her grip. Her fingers loosen to grip more gently, still a firm grip, now instead of her broom she imagined it was...

"Lucky man," Draco chuckled as his fingers leave her hands. "Now you have the perfect grip."

"You're a good teacher," she said sitting up turning slightly to look at him. He just shrugged.

"Now we're going to fly," he said. "Hands as they were."

Hermione placed her hands back on the broom as one of his hands rested flat against her stomach, the other on the top of her thigh.

"I need to know how you move your body through basic moves," he explained. "I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?"

"No," she breathed. Uncomfortable isn't exactly the word she would use for having him so close.

"If you feel I've crossed a line, tell me," he said. "I wouldn't want you to feel the need to slap me again. That hurt."

"You deserved it."

"I did."

"We've grown up since then," she smiled at him.

"We may have. But I doubt Potter and Weasley will be so accepting that I'm your coach," he chuckled.

"They'll just have to deal with it," she shrugged. She tried to ignore him as she kicked off gently.

"I'm not going to fall off Granger. I have excellent balance," Malfoy reassured her.

Malfoy instructed her through basic drills, his hands never moved from her stomach or thigh.

"Good," Malfoy said when they landed. "Time for lunch. Clean up, change into street clothes and meet me in the restaurant. Bring with you whatever it was you were planning to eat."

Malfoy stormed off the pitch. He left Hermione stood in the middle of the pitch, broom still between her legs, staring after him.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco hurried off the pitch, striding away from Hermione. He made his way back to the fireplace that's in the family box so he can floo home. He'd neglected to bring a change of clothes with him and he was in desperate need of a shower, preferably a cold one.

When he entered the family box, his mood soured further.

"Hello, Mother. What's brought you here today?" He asked walking over to the window where she stood.

"Just checking to see how the new player is getting on," Narcissa replied.

"How long have you been here?"

"Oh, not long," she shrugged casually.

"You followed me through the fireplace didn't you? What did you wait, ten seconds?"

"Thirty, actually. A whole half a minute," she smiled brightly.

"Mother, you're interfering," Draco sighed.

"I just..."

"No. Stay away. I can't do my job if I think you're staring over my shoulder all day. If you're going to keep doing this, there's no point me being here."

"No need to overreact, Draco. Fine I'll stay away except for when I need to be here because I'm the owner. If I'm here, I'll inform you in advance of my presence. Please don't quit," she begged.

"Stick to the rules and I'll stay," Draco said before leaving through the fireplace.

Narcissa smirked leaving the box in search of the manager. Apparently she was in need of a spy.

* * *

 

Draco stepped out of the ice cold shower, gasping for breath. Painful, but it worked.

He stood in front of his wardrobe, body slightly damp with a towel slung low around his hips, trying to decide what to wear.

It shouldn't be this hard.

He shouldn't care this much. It's only Granger.

Except, she’s the first woman to react to him that way in such a long time. The women his mother had thrown at him had said and done all the right things but none of them reacted the way she did.

He'd made her blush, stiffen, and gasp. All without really trying.

Draco ran his fingers through his damp hair. He'd made her laugh. She blushed at some of the innuendos he couldn't help uttering.

Had it been a date...

No. He can't think like that; he's _supposed_ to be professional. He'll do better later. He would remember where the line is.

* * *

Draco made it to the stadium restaurant just ahead of her. She came in wearing a dress and flats.

"I had to go home to change so I could put on something that was easy to get in and out of," she explained.

"That's easy to get in and out of?" He asked looking her up and down as she sat down opposite him.

"It's a dress. I just pull it up over my head. The shoes just slip off. Less than a minute and I can be in my underwear," Hermione shrugged.

This was not keeping to his resolution to remain professional around her.

He shifted in his seat, snatching the lunchbox she brought with her.

Draco opened it and frowned.

"This is your idea of a nutritious lunch?" He asked staring down at the contents.

"It's not that bad," she squirmed.

"A tuna sandwich, on white bread, that's more mayo than tuna," he said dissecting the sandwich. He looked up at her, "biscuits, crisps and a chocolate bar?"

"They're tasty. The sugar keeps me going."

"Is this the crap you've been eating training yourself?"

"Maybe," she crossed her arms looking down at the table.

"Aren't your parents some sort of muggle healer? Surely they taught you something about basic nutrition?"

"They did but..."

"You've been living alone for long enough you've stopped taking care of yourself?"

"Yeah. I guess," she said, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

He waved his wand sending her entire lunchbox to the bin.

He waited for her to protest but she doesn't.

He pulled the two covered dishes towards them.

"Today, you have a choice. We haven't had any time to discuss what you'll be eating, so today, you pick the one you want and I'll eat the other."

He pulled the covers off to reveal one fish dish and one chicken dish, with lots of vegetables. They both smell incredible.

"I thought it was meant to be healthy food?" She asked him staring at the food before her.

"Healthy doesn't mean tasteless. I'm eating what you eat remember. What did you expect? Me, to accept plain chicken and some mediocre salad? Please, Granger, remember who I _am_ ," he smirked at her.

Hermione pulled the seafood dish towards her, Draco took the chicken.

They ate in silence.

"Why did you take the seafood?"

"It smelt incredible. They both did. I eat pretty much anything. I'll let you know if I don't like something."

"I expected you to fight me about the food," Draco told her.

"I hardly have a valid argument. The lunch you provided was tastier and more nutritious than what I'd planned to eat. Don't worry, I'm sure we'll find something to fight about while we shop," she smiled brightly at him, he snorted back a laugh.

"If you're ready, let's go find something to argue about then," he stood up as she giggled.

Draco wondered how long it's been since someone laughed because they found him funny.

* * *

  
The two of them walked together to one of the public fireplaces. Draco pulled her to one side before they go through.

"There's something you need to know before we go," Draco said, eyes slightly wild as his hands start to shake. "Since the war ended, I've been out in public five times, not including Hogwarts and here because that's hardly public. Those five outings were within two years of the end of the war. Of those five, I was attacked with the Cruciatus Curse three times. The other two were physical beatings. I gave up going out."

He could feel Hermione watching him during his confession, but he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. His breathing was laboured as he tried to bring himself under control.

She placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her.

"Breathe with me," she said exaggerating her own breathing. He followed the rise and fall of her chest, matching his own with hers. He started to feel a little better.

"You've not been out in about three years then?" She asked him. He shook his head not trusting his words. "I'll be there, no one will attack you. Even if they do, they won't get away with it."

Draco finally met her eyes, alight with rage on his behalf. It made him feel better.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked him.

"No. Let's go," he turned and walked to the nearest fireplace. "You first?" He pleaded weakly.

She took some Floo powder.

"Don't keep me waiting," she told him before stepping into to the fireplace to go to the Leaky Cauldron.

Draco watched her disappear in a flash of green flames before taking some powder and stepping in.

He took a deep breath.

"The Leaky Cauldron," he said clearly, the flames swept him away before his panic has a chance to consume him once more.

* * *

 

Draco stood up from the fireplace brushing himself off. Silence echoes through the room. Hermione slipped her arm through the crook of his and guided him out.

Whispers begun to fill the room.

Once out on the street, the situation isn't much different; people draw back from him, glares and whispers follow them. Hermione was stiff beside him, walking with her head high, her face daring anyone to make a move against him. He's beginning to shake as they make it to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

It's a Monday, it's not as busy as expected. The man behind the counter was the first person to smile at them.

The only other patrons in the shop leave after a glance at Draco.

"Good afternoon, Cormack Floo'd me this morning to tell me to expect you, that you might need to purchase a lot," The man said moving past them. He closed the door, turned the sign to closed and locked the door.

Draco let out a sigh of relief.

"Yes, we do," he said regaining himself. "Hermione only has a set of basic Quidditch training gear. I think we might be here some time." Draco warned him.

"No worries. Cormack is a good friend. Take your time. I won't reopen today. Women's section is upstairs." the man led them back.

"I'll need some things myself," Draco said.

"Of course, Mr Malfoy. No problem at all. Cormack explained about your new position. Do you need assistance today?"

"No, we should be okay," Draco smiled.

"Then I'll be in the office. I'm Martin. Knock if you need anything, the store is yours," Martin the shopkeeper said as he backs away leaving them alone.

"Who's Cormack?" Hermione said to him.

"The manager. Cormack McLeod," Draco said surprised.

"Oh. He never introduced himself so I had no idea what his name was," she giggled.

"You didn't think to ask?" He snorted.

"There was never an opening to ask," she shrugged. "I figured someone would shout his name or something at some point and I'd pick it up then."

Draco shook his head as they make their way upstairs to the bulk of the gear.

* * *

Downstairs is where the brooms, team merchandise, children's gear, and the basic flying gear is kept. Upstairs is everything else. Hermione had never been up here before. The others would leave her out, tell her they were coming here while she was in the book store.

It was bigger than she expected.

This floor is divided into three sections. Men's, women's and unisex.

Draco took her hand and drags her over to the women's section. Off to one side is a changing room behind a curtain. She stood in the middle while Draco shopped for her.

"The team colours are white and black so we'll stick to buying stuff in those colours," he shouted from the a few rails over.

"No colours at all," she pouted.

Draco sighed.

"Is this going to be our first fight? We've literally just got here."

"I don’t understand why _everything_ has to be black and white. It's just training gear. Surely it doesn't matter if I wear some colour while training," she argued.

"You at least have to stay away from the other team colours. That doesn't leave many options," he warned her.

"Anything will do. I'm not spending all my time in black and white," she threw her arms up.

"What's wrong with wearing black?" He asked folding his arms. He's dressed in a long black sleeved button up shirt with black trousers and black lace up shoes. It's a stark contrast to her pale blue dress decorated with pink roses.

"It looks good on you," she blushed slightly, "but I like colour." She stamped her foot.

"You're being pathetic. You're arguing for no good reason. You know that, don't you? It's not like I'm forcing you to wear orange," he shuddered. Hermione stifled a giggle.

"You could do with some colour too. Owning one blue t-shirt won't kill you."

"Why blue?"

"It will bring out the blue flecks in your eyes," Hermione answered quickly, blushing at her own words.

"Here, go try this on," Draco said pushing some gear into her hands, averting his eyes.

It takes her some time to get into the heavy weight gear he handed her. When she comes out, he's by a mirror holding up a blue t-shirt staring at his eyes. Trying to see what she sees.

Hermione coughed.

Draco jumped and dropped the shirt hoping she didn't notice. The look on her face says she did. Her lack of comment makes him nervous.

"This is really heavy," she pouted at him.

"It's meant to be. That's why it's called heavyweight gear. Beaters wear it for matches for extra protection, but most players use it for strength training. Run in that, then take it off, run again and you'll feel the difference. Trust me."

"You expect me to run in this?" She asked thunderstruck.

"Eventually. This one next," he said chucking the lightweight gear at her. She rolled her eyes and went back into the changing rooms.

She looked a lot more comfortable this time.

"Tell me five big difference between this and the last set."

"One, It's lighter. Two, The material is completely different, it's not as stiff. Three, There's mesh parts. Four, I don't hate you for making me put it on. Five, the thought of running in it doesn't make me want to cry. Will those do?"

"Yeah, they'll do." He smirked trying not to laugh. "I suppose you want an opinion on the non flying gear?"

"That would be nice," she smiled sweetly, it unnerved him.

Hermione turned on her heels, bouncing over to the sport bra section.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, a challenge in her eyes. She turns her head back, she reaches for the edge of her shirt pulling it up over her head, dropping it to the floor.

"Granger, this is a public place you can't just start stripping off. There is a changing room for a reason," Draco hissed at her.

"The shop is shut and locked," she said turning to face him. He tried not to stare at her lacy ice-blue bra, or the nipples he can see straining against the fabric, "the shopkeeper has no intention of interrupting us. It's just us here. You're the one who said we needed to comfortable around each other. Am I making you uncomfortable Malfoy?"

"No," he replied quickly. A glance down gives him away.

"Liar," she purred at him. "Trousers a little tight?" She asked tilting her head staring at the very obvious erection.

"It's a normal male reaction to tits, Granger. Admittedly yours are pretty great and it's been a while for me but you'd have to do a whole lot more than prancing around in your bra to make me uncomfortable."

"Really?" She asked innocently. "Honestly Malfoy, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."

Hermione turned around to continue walking to the far corner where the sports bras are kept.

As she walked, Hermione reached back to undo the clasp on her bra, letting it fall the the floor.

Draco's mouth dropped open as she grinned at him over her shoulder.

"That wasn't supposed to be a challenge, Granger," Malfoy sighed staring at the discarded bra.

"Wasn't it? Malfoy, isn't everything between us a challenge? Hasn't it always been that way," She asked keeping her back to him as she slowly walked across the room away from him. He kept pace following her. "You push, I push back it's just what we do to each other."

"We're supposed to be adults now."

"That doesn't sound much fun," she pouted at him over her shoulder. "Our teenage years were lost to war. It's okay to be a little reckless sometimes."

Hermione turned just slightly giving him a side view of her bare breasts before giving him her back once more.

Hermione picked a bright pink sports bra and slipped it on. She turned to face him starting to bounce on the balls of her feet.

"Coach, in your professional opinion, is this supportive enough?"

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You might as well run naked, clearly that's for decorative purposes only."

"I suppose you're right," she said poking at her breasts. She peeled it off in front of him. He squeezed his eyes shut as he turned around abruptly.

Draco wasn't quick enough. He saw.

His blood was pounding in his ears. His determination to reset the ground between them to being purely professional evaporates.

"Fine, Granger. You want to play. Two can play at that game," he span around. She has another sports bra on now.

His fingers fly to the buttons of his shirt, yanking them open. He discards the shirt on the floor. His hands then undo his trousers as he kicks off his shoes. He pushes his trousers down leaving him in emerald green boxers. The material isn't as constricting.

Hermione's eyes are wide as he strokes his dick through his boxers.

"There, much less uncomfortable now," he grinned as Hermione blushed. She crossed her arms across her bare stomach. He can feel her eyes on him as he walks over to where he dropped the blue shirt earlier. He bent over, showing off his arse as he picks it up off the floor. He turned to face her as he lifted his arms to pull the shirt on. Her eyes darted across his torso as he moved, sliding the material on. He walked over to the mirror right by her.

"Hmm you're right about the shirt, Granger. Good shout. I think I'll get it," Draco turned to look at her, smirking.

Hermione pushed down the training gear leaving her in just her tiny lace knickers with the sports bra she'd thrown on.

"I need new running shorts," she said turning around to show her bare arse with a scrap of lace between her cheeks.

"I've got a few pairs of this brand but I could always use more. The best thing about them is I don't need these," she said pushing her knickers to the floor stepping out of them.

Draco got a flash of her nether region as she bent to pull them over her feet. Once they're in place she turns around to face him.

"Fine, get colourful running gear," he said throwing up his hands.

"Yoga and swimwear too?"

"Whatever," he conceded. She had won. He couldn't deal with this anymore.

It's swimwear next.

"No bikinis. It has to be a proper costume for actual swimming," he said storming over to join her.

"As long as it's not just black and white I'll wear whatever you put me in," she smiled.

It made him falter. Anything? Dragging his mind out of the gutter he started searching through the swimwear. A couple tempt him, but he's back attempting to be a professional coach, one that doesn't have weird boundary issues with their player.

Hermione was stood close by watching him.

He can tell she's preparing herself for their next battle, the thought excited him, and possibly influenced his first choice.

It's black and white but it's perfect. It's functional and will look stunning on her.

Draco held it out to her.

"Please go try this one on. I need to know how this style fits and how it feels across your shoulder blades," he asked pressing it into her hands.

To his relief, she took it to the changing room.

After a few minutes, he opens his mouth to shout her when she steps out. The black and white lines curve perfectly with her body. Drawing the eye in, the hips sit high showing off her legs, the curving strips follow her own curves perfectly.

He meets her eyes to argue about the colour but she's looking towards the ground, twisting her fingers together. He could taste the victory before he's begun.

"How does it feel? Do you have fully movement?"

"Yes. I have full movement," she answered him carefully.

"Excellent. I guess I'll try to find something similar that has colour," he sighed turning back to the racking.

"I think we're done," she said quietly. So quietly he almost missed it.

"What was that?" He's going through the other costumes, pretending he didn't hear her.

"I want this one," Hermione told him.

He lifted his eyebrows at her.

"But what about the colour?" He folded his arms taking another opportunity to look at her.

"It'll do," she shrugged, he struggles not to grin at his victory.

They finished up quickly. Draco finds his shirt crumpled on the floor, swapping it back as Hermione retrieves her bra.

Draco spotted her knickers first. He slipped them into his pocket without her noticing. She won't miss them too much, it's not like they covered a lot anyway.

They each select their own running and yoga gear. Draco kept the blue t-shirt. Hermione searched once more for her knickers before giving up, changing back into her dress without them.

"Are you ready?" He asked as he sees her scanning the floor once more.

"Yes. I suppose I am," she sighed, brushing down the skirt of her dress.

He pretended not to notice anything was wrong as they both carry piles of clothes downstairs to the till.

"You kids have fun?" Martin asked coming out of the office behind the till.

Both of them blushed a little.

"Get everything you need?" He asked looking up at them.

"We did. Thank you," Draco answered with a gracious smile.

They'd been in the shop so long the street outside is dark and deserted. Martin offered for them his floo to return to the stadium. They accept, neither wants to go back through a packed Leaky Cauldron tonight.

* * *

They arrived back at the stadium and took all their purchases to the locker room. Each player has their own room to store their gear. Hermione hasn't had any reason to go in hers yet. As she opened the door, her breath caught in her chest. There, hanging proudly against the back wall was a set of black and white striped Quidditch robes. Emblazoned on the back is her name, the number seven and the magpie itself. She stepped up to them, stroking her fingers across her name, as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Draco set down the bags and hugged her from behind.

"They're real, they're yours, welcome to the team, Hermione," he said squeezing her.

He let her go, stepping away to unpack. Coaches keep their gear with their player’s if they’re an assigned coach like he is.

He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, double checks it's the right scrap of fabric, dabbed away the tears on her cheeks. It's his job to look after her after all.

"Come on, Granger. Time for dinner," he said gently, slipping his hand into hers and pulling her away towards the team restaurant.

Neither thought to break their grip on the others hand.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner was awkward.

Hermione shifted in her seat, barely aware of what she was eating. All too aware she was sat across from Draco Malfoy eating dinner, with no knickers on. She suspected he had them.

This afternoon she flashed him. She teased him. He'd teased her back, responded to her. Then not long ago he wiped her tears and hugged her.

She wasn't sure what was making her feel more awkward, the sexual tension or the sweetness from the changing room.

Hermione was only comforted by the fact that Draco seemed to be as awkward as she was.

He's Draco now. At least in her head. They've been practically naked around each other and that hug...

A cough made them both jump. The manager joined them, hovering at the edge of their table.

"Successful shopping trip?" He asked.

"Yes sir," Draco replied. "We got everything she needed."

"Good good. Martin treat you well?"

"He shut the shop and let us have upstairs to ourselves."

Hermione is amazed at the steadiness of his voice, the only hint of anything wrong was a slight tinge to his ears. She felt her own face heat.

The manager looked between them as Hermione continues to eat, not trusting herself to look at her coach.

"I wanted to discuss with you the exact terms of your coaching here, Mr Malfoy. I hope you don't mind Miss Granger being privy to it?"

"Of course not," he replied smoothly.

"Excellent. I'm not sure how much your mother told you but she insisted that given your fortune and background with the club you were willing to do this on a volunteer basis?"

"Actually my mother made it clear that I'll be cut off if I don't do something, so 'volunteer' is perhaps not the right word but yes, there is no need for the club to pay me," Draco replied.

"Excellent. Now as a volunteer you aren't bound by the same restrictions that limit personal involvement between players and staff. All we ask is that volunteers at least be discreet," the man said glancing between them.

"I'm sure that won't be an issue," Draco said. Hermione glanced up to look at his inflamed face. He glanced up to meet her eyes, lips quirking.

"Hmm well, regardless, I felt it's something you should know. Very well. I'll see you tomorrow bright and early to get working properly."

The manager left before either can respond.

Draco opened his mouth to say something but shut it quickly. Hermione doesn't know what to say either. They can hardly address whatever it is between them.

They've long since finished eating.

"Was the food okay?" He asked her.

She had no idea.

"Yeah, it was good," she replied hoping she was being truthful.

He nodded.

It's time to leave but neither of them left their seats.

"Granger..." he started before running a hand through his hair.

She got up pushing her chair back.

"Goodnight, Draco. I'll see you in the morning," she said before rushing from the room.

If she'd lingered a few moments she'd have heard his reply.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he muttered as the door shut.

* * *

Hermione arrived at the changing room first the next morning. She stared at all her training gear. Until he gets there, she doesn't know what to wear.

She's wearing a pair of running shorts and a sports bra when he entered.

He looked like he slept just as much as she had.

"Morning," she said brightly, hoping that if she pretends yesterday didn't happen he will too.

"Morning," he muttered as his eyes run over her.

"I had no idea what I needed to wear," she explained.

"Running gear to start today," he said grabbing the blue t-shirt and a pair of shorts from his own clothes.

Hermione picked a tank top to throw over what she's wearing and her running shoes.

"Are we going for speed or distance today?" Hermione asked as they walk out to the pitch.

"Distance. I want to know how long you can run for," Draco replied. "I'll set the pace."

She groaned. He's taller than her, about Harry's height. She's been running with him a few times. Every time she let Harry set the pace, she could barely move the next day.

Still she wasn't going to back down from the challenge.

"What's the problem Granger? Not a fan of running?"

"Oh I like running. I've been running with men you're height and let them set the pace. It never ends well," she laughed.

"I'll go easy on you," he smirked. "You warm enough to start?"

"Yeah, I'm ready," she sighed.  

Their first lap of the pitch they're walking fast. The second is a brisk jog. The third is where they start to run. The fourth is painful. Runner's high kicks in for the fifth. It propels her through the sixth and the seventh lap too. The eighth lap she started to struggle. Halfway around the ninth she stopped.

"Complete the lap then you can stop," Draco shouted over his shoulder panting a little.

She made herself move again. She finished the lap ten minutes after he did. She finished the lap at her pace, or the only pace she could run at. She dropped to her knees.

"Get up. You need to stretch out," he reached down and pulled her back to her feet.

"You couldn't let me have two minutes to just die on the ground?" She moaned.

"No."

Most of the morning has gone on their run.

"We do nine laps again tomorrow but you stick with me. We'll run every morning," he told her.

"Yes sir," she rolled her eyes.

"Less of the attitude. I told you I was going to work you hard," he laughed. "Now it's time for stretches. I need to know how flexible you are."

His eyes roamed her body again. She blushed a little thinking of what players and coaches were doing the day before.

He led her through a series of neck and shoulder exercises. Some he seemed satisfied with, some he made her hold until she started to shake, some he'd come over and manipulate her muscles pushing her further into the hold.

Then it's on to her back, twisting, turning and bending. When he makes her bend to touch her toes she blushes as she remembers being almost like this yesterday. He makes her hold the position, arse up in the air. He runs his hand along her back, over her arse and down her legs feeling the tension of the muscles.

As he runs his hand back up her other leg, reaching her arse once more he rubs it before giving it a smack. She stands up and turns to face him.

"What was that for?" She huffed rubbing the spot he hit.

"Teasing me so badly yesterday," he whispered to her smirking. "On the floor, I need to test out your hips."

He grinned as she sank to the floor.

"Sit up and spread your legs out as far as you can," he ordered sitting opposite her. She does as he asks while he mimics her actions. He stared at the angle of her legs.

"Is that it?" He asked his own spread further than hers.

"Comfortably? Yeah."

"Spread them more but stop before it hurts," he said. She widens her legs a little more but not by much. He moved so he's sat behind her, he pushes the top of her back so her face moves towards the grass.

"Tell me if it hurts. It might be uncomfortable but it shouldn't hurt."

Hermione nodded concentrating on her breathing as he lowers her to the grass.

"Rest on your elbows here," he told her. She brought her arms around to lay on her forearms as his hands run over her thighs. He pushes her legs a little further apart.

"Hold it and breathe," he said with a hand on her back. All she could see was grass as she breathed in and out.

"Okay good. Sit back up slowly. Shake out your legs if you need to," he said watching her push herself up.

"Lie on your back, stick your legs in the air and hold them there," he said.

Following his directions was getting easier. She felt herself responding to his words without thought.

Her legs shake as she held them. She wasn't as strong or as fit as she thought she was. A glance at his face confirmed her thoughts. As a professional athlete, she should be in better shape. As she holds her shaking legs above her, she wishes he'd just Crucio her if he wanted to cause her pain.

"Okay that's enough," he said taking pity on her. As she lowers her legs, she can feel the muscles in her tummy pull. She didn't realise she'd been using them.

"Knees up bring your heels to your bum," he said, once she's done that he's there with his hands on her knees.

"Keep your feet where they are," he ordered, as he begins pushing her knees apart.

She's never felt more exposed than she does like this. He stopped when he feels her hips resist.

"We're going to have to do something about these hips of yours," he said running a finger down her inner thigh. "It should be much easier for you to spread your legs for me."

She blushed at the implication behind his words as he eases her legs shut.

He knelt between her legs as he makes them relax. One he leaves led on the ground while the other he brought up to his shoulder.

This is it. The intimate position she'd seen yesterday. He leaned into her pushing her leg back. His body leaning over her, holding her leg in place. He shifts his body a little and she feels his cock rub against her leg. She's pleased not to be the only one affected. He shifted his body again, she feels his hardness pressed between her legs. She can't help the gasp that escapes her nor the way she writhed against him.

He smirked down at her as he pulls back lowering her leg gently.

He lifted the other leg. This particular torture is only half done. Except this time he makes no attempt to keep from rubbing against her. As she moaned, a chuckle escapes him.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself but do remember we're in a public place, Granger," Draco muttered to her, she opened her eyes, not realising she'd shut them.

As her eyes meet his, he thrust against her once. Amusement and heat mingle in his eyes as he watched her bite her lip. A shudder ran through her as he pulls back.

"We're done with those for today," he said getting to his feet, holding out a hand to her.

She took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet glad of the extra support. Between the run, the stretches, and the arousal, her legs aren't working quite as they should.

Hermione's body shook before falling against him.

"I knew you were falling for me," he whispered to her as she leans against him.  She forced her legs to hold her as she pushed away from him.

"I'm fine," she said ignoring his last comment.

"I did tell you I'd work you hard," he laughed once more.

She looks down at the tenting in his shorts.

"Looks like you’re the one that was worked hard," she smirked staring at his erection pointedly.

She looked up to meet his eyes.

"Lunchtime," he said striding away from her.

She caught up to him easily, despite her sore legs she keeps pace with him as they walk, hands brushed against each other accidentally as they move.

* * *

 

They separated at the entrance to the showers. As she turned from him, he gave her another swat on the arse. She turned to tell him off but the door to the male showers swung shut cutting off his laugh. She grimaced as she entered the women's shower room.  

The other two female players are already in there in various states of undress. One was wrapped in a towel rubbing lotion into her legs, the other was stripping off her gear.

"Hey, it's the new girl," the girl rubbing in lotion said getting to her feet, walking over.

"I'm Carrie," she smiled hugging Hermione.

The other girl joins them, she's down to just her knickers as she too hugs Hermione.  

"I'm Amanda," the nearly naked girl said against her ear.

Apparently, casual nudity was something she would have to get used to.

"I'm Hermione," she smiled at them.

"The girl who got the hot coach," Carrie sighed.

"He's alright, I suppose," she shrugged feeling a flare of jealousy. He's _her_ coach.

"Don't worry, Carrie is married and boys aren't really my thing," Amanda told her.

"I wasn't worried," Hermione said as she stripped off ready for her shower.

"You're pretty cool," Carrie told her.

"How much of this was a test?" Hermione asked as she lost the last of her clothing walking over to the shower.

"Most of it. Some of the girls we've had aren't comfortable around Amanda," Carrie said.

"Why?" Hermione asked over the noise of the shower as she stepped under the water.

"Some girls won't be naked around me because I like girls," Amanda said nervously.

"Oh. I don't mind," Hermione shrugged.

"So how are things going with your coach? Rumour is you two have some sort of history?" Carrie asked.

Hermione turned off the water, wrapping a towel around her. She attempts to get her fingers through her hair.

Amanda grabbed her hand stopping her attempts to take her hair, taking out her wand.

"Don't you know any hair charms?" Amanda sighed working Hermione's hair dry and into a new ponytail.

"I've just never been very good at them. Thank you."

"No problem."

"Amanda is an artist at hair charms. She's been dying to do your hair since your try-out," Carrie laughed.

"Now about your coach?" Amanda said.

Hermione groaned.

"We were at school together. We never got on very well. Now he's my coach," Hermione said brushing over the nastier side of the war.

"He's got a weird scar on his arm," Amanda mentioned.

"He does." Hermione stiffened.

"You're... okay with that?"

"I am. I know all about his... scar. I have no problems working with him."

"Oh, we noticed," Carrie grinned.

"You did?" Hermione said grabbing her stuff from the floor.

"Don't worry, none of the others have noticed. If Carrie wasn't checking out your coach, she'd have missed it too," Amanda reassured her.

"You'd better go. You've got lunch with the hottie soon right? You'll want to go grab fresh clothes for that," Carrie winked at her.

"We'll see you later. Dinner is eaten together," Amanda said ushering her to the door.

"Yeah, okay," Hermione said as she steps through a door into the regular changing room. It's empty but she hurried through to her kit room to find some fresh clothes.

He was already there, sliding on a fresh pair of boxers. She stared at his bare arse bent over, fully presented to her.

"See something you like?" He asked as he turns to face her.

"Maybe," she shrugged walking past him in her towel. She can feel his eyes watching her, waiting to see what she's going to do.

She glanced at him over her shoulder.

"Are you expecting a show?" She asked him.

"Maybe," he grinned mimicking her.

Hermione decided to ignore him. To carry on as she would if no one was there.

She drops the towel and dresses herself in another pair of shorts and sports bra. As she was taught in the shower room, casual nudity shouldn't be a problem here. She refused to let him make her uncomfortable. She tried hard not to think about them referring to the man with her as a "hottie", then she might have to think about why it bothers her that they've noticed.

"The girls mentioned that the team eats dinner together," she said as she changed.

"We were at little late back to join the team for dinner, but yes we'll be eating with them tonight. Bored of my company?"

"Surprisingly, no," She laughed.

"Really?"

"You're not that bad," she shrugged as she fastened her sports bra.

If she hadn't had her back to him, she'd have seen on his face just how much those four words meant to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Both Hermione and Draco managed to get dressed and leave the room without flirting any further.

Once in the canteen, Hermione's teammates were already there. Hermione steered away from them as Carrie mouthed the word "hottie" at her and Amanda wiggled her eyebrows before they both start to giggled. 

"Friends of yours?" Draco asked noticing how uncomfortable Hermione was with their antics. 

"Not anymore," she glared at them as he laughed. 

"It's good to make friends with the team. It will be easier once you start practicing with them," he reminded her.

"Well duh," Hermione rolled her eyes. 

Draco leaned in close to her. 

"Be very careful doing that. I won't tolerate disrespectful behaviour. Keep it up and you'll earn a spanking," he whispered darkly. 

She shuddered at the heat in his eyes. 

"That's hardly being discreet," she said as she sat quickly, removing her derriere from his reach. 

"As if I'd do that in public," he chuckled taking the seat opposite her again. Today they have the chicken dish she'd past on the day before. 

"We'll take it easy this afternoon, I expect you're sore from this morning?" He asked, resuming his professional front. 

"A little," she shrugged wincing at even that movement. 

"You realise you have to actually be honest about your pain levels with me. If I push you too hard, you'll get injured."

"Fine. Every muscle is burning. I pretty much just want to sleep," she admitted slumping down in her seat. 

"There we go, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He grinned at her. 

Once they finished eating they changed into lightweight gear and grabbed their brooms.

When Hermione kicked off, feeling the wind in her face, the pain eased a little. 

"Follow me, if you can," Draco smirked at her before taking off fast. 

He moved through a series of dives and turns that test her reflexes. He doesn't need to watch her, this close and at this speed if she messed up they would collide. 

After an hour, he brought them down to land.

"Well that wasn't terrible but there's room for improvement."

"Well, that's your job, isn't it? Make me better," she groaned stretching. "So far all you've done is make me sore." She pouted.

"Oh, stop whining. I have something to help with that anyway. Follow me," he shouted over his shoulder. 

"Aren't we flying anymore?"

"No."

"I thought I'd be doing more flying," she huffed. 

"Who's the coach?" He asked turning to face her.

"You," she sighed.

"Exactly. So you have to do what I tell you. If you were in better shape you'd be doing more flying but until we raise your basic fitness doing much flying is pointless. I warned you about being disrespectful. It's almost as if you want a spanking," he laughed.

Draco turned and started walking once more. She followed. He didn't give her much choice.

He took them to the gear room once more and chucked a towel at her. 

"Go shower, then meet me back here," he ordered. 

She left without protesting. Her hair doesn't need washing again, the charm Amanda put on it keeps her hair clean for at least two days. 

When she returned, wrapped in a towel with her hair piled on her head, she's surprised by the sight that greets her. 

"What is that?" She asked stupidly.

"It's a massage table, Granger. Every gear room is equipped with one. It's generally expected for coaches to take care of sore muscles for their player," Draco sighed. "But if you don't feel you need it, we can skip it." 

She hesitated. She does need it but the thought of having him do something so intimate is hardly relaxing. She walked over to the table. 

"How do you want me?" She asked looking up through her eyelashes at him. 

His breath caught as she looks at him.

"Just... er... sit on the edge for now. We'll start simple until you're comfortable with me touching you." 

She did as he asks, keeping the towel wrapped around her. It shifted down her breasts a little as she slid across the table getting into a comfortable position.  

Draco didn't look at her as he started with her left hand. 

He was using some oil she couldn't identify the scent of, she suspected it's a special blend. He worked his way slowly up her arm, stopping just below her shoulder. He took her right hand and followed the same pattern. 

Hermione could feel herself beginning to relax as the soreness started to leave her arm muscles. 

Draco moved behind her starting to work loose the knots in her neck and shoulders. 

"You need to lie down now," he said turning around. "You can fold the towel and cover your arse if you want to."

Hermione stared at his back making her decision. Her gluteal muscles are a little sore. 

She dropped the towel to the floor and left it there.

She led face down on the table, leaving her bare back to him. 

Hermione heared him gasp when he turns around. 

"Didn't you want the towel?" 

"How can you work out the soreness in my glutes if they're covered with a towel?" She asked, turning her head to look at him. "Where do you want my arms?"

"Above your head if that's okay?" He asked a little shakily. 

Hermione moved her arms so she's stretched out on the bed. She closed her eyes, giving herself over to him.

He started again with her shoulders, using the new position of her arms to loosen up the muscles further. 

Draco worked down her back in small circles, kneading at her flesh. He avoided touching her arse yet, choosing instead to move to her feet and work up. 

She began to moan as his fingers push pressure points in her feet that shoot straight to her core. 

Hermione sighed in relief when he began to move up to her ankles. She whimpered a little when he reached her calf muscles. After a few minutes, the pain eased, then he moved onto her knees. 

He climbed onto the table straddling her legs as he reached her thighs. She parted her legs a little giving him better access. 

Draco took a deep breath. From this angle he can see and smell just how much she's been enjoying him touching her. He moved on from her thigh to her arse. 

She'd basically told him she wanted him to touch her here but he still hesitated. His hands take her arse he realised he's branched away from sports massage techniques. 

Draco parted her cheeks, stared at her puckered hole before letting go watching as her cheeks slap together once more. He used his thumbs to work circles into her flesh, working them into the crack of her arse. She moaned when his digits brush against her hole. He reared back, he crossed a line. 

Hermione looked at him over her shoulder. There was no accusation in her eyes. 

"Are you finished? Or is there more of me you could massage?" 

"On your knees," he says in the same tone he's been using all day. Her body responded automatically to his voice. 

"Sit on your heels and open your legs a little." 

He moves so he's sat behind her as he conjured a mirror in front of them. 

Draco's hands worked the muscles in her thighs. 

"As you can probably tell, we're deviating from traditional sports massage. Tell me to stop and I'll stop," he whispered against her ear meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"Don't stop," she breathed leaning back into him. "I don't want you to stop."

He shuddered at her words at his hands move up her stomach to her breasts. She arched into his hands. He massaged her breasts with the same diligence he's shown to the rest of her body. 

“Look how wet you are,” He murmured against her ear. One hand slid down her body, parting her lower lips, making her arousal even more visible in the mirror. 

“Is this all for me?” Draco asked rubbing her dampness around her clit. Her legs shook as his other hand wrapped around her waist holding her against him. She moaned as he touched her. 

He slipped two fingers into her pumping them hard. The squelching noise filled the room, drowning out her whimpers. He curled his fingers inside her stroking her inner wall. 

She shuddered as she came all over his fingers. Moaning his name loudly making him chuckle. “They'll hear you if you keep crying out my name like that.”

Draco pushed her forward  onto her knees before him. He pushed down his shorts, he pulled out his hard cock. He lined it up with her entrance, pushing into her in one thrust…

“Granger. Granger, you're drooling,” Draco chuckled as Hermione opened her eyes. She was face down on the table, towel covering her rear. She sat up a little wiping her face. 

“You were moaning in your sleep. Was that from the massage? Or was Granger having naughty dreams?” 

As she came to her senses, she wondered what was the exact moment she fell asleep. How much did he touch her? A crushing sense of disappointment hit her as she realised nothing sexual happened.

Draco's eyes darted away from her when she sat up. She pulled the towel around her as she stood up. 

“Thank you for the massage. I feel a lot better now. You're a good coach,” she said regaining her composure.

“Really? Is that why you were moaning my name as you slept through the massage I gave you.”

“I was?” she blushed. 

“Yep,” He grinned at her. “You better go shower off that oil. It's almost dinner time. I was told we have to join the team tonight.”

Hermione left, still a little dazed, to have another shower. As she showered, it's almost as if she can still feel his hands on her. Her dream kept haunting her no matter how much she tried to push it to the back of her head.

She may have flirted with him and teased him but until the moment she woke up, she hadn't actually considered following through. 

Going forward from here she had just one goal, to bed Draco Malfoy. 

Based on the experience of the past couple of days it shouldn't be that hard, right?


	7. Chapter 7

While Hermione was in the shower, it had seemed so simple. Now she was standing outside the stadium canteen with Draco. He was shaking. He wasn't good around people. He kept tugging on the sleeve of his arm. 

 

She sighed and looped her arm through his. She tightened her grip on his arm, reminding him she's there, that she's with him, that she's on his side. He tugged on the sleeve of his arm again. It comes down past his wrist but it's not about the length. It's about hiding. His “scar” is visible for a fair distance when his arms are bare, like they are during the day. The black may have bled to grey and distorted but it's still recognisable. 

 

“I don't think I can do this,” He whined. 

 

“Of course you can. Stay by my side. We'll face them together,” she smiled at him. “how long until someone brings up the war do you think?” she laughed.

 

“It won't take long. It never does,” Draco said hanging his head. She swung open the door, guiding them in. Draco is given the choice between keeping up with her or losing his arm. He chooses keeping up with her. When all conversation stopped at their slightly late arrival, he regretted coming in. 

 

“Finally,” Cormack said coming over to them. “I was beginning to think you weren't coming again.”

 

“My fault, sorry. I took forever in the shower,” Hermione smiled politely. They were on time until Draco fought a panic attack outside the doors. The others don't need to know that. 

 

“No worries, my dear. No worries. We saved you seats together. Amanda suggested a bench instead of chairs but we ignored her suggestion,” He laughed pointing them towards their seats. 

 

“A bench?” Hermione asked Amanda who is sat opposite her. 

 

“I thought it would be easier for you both, you know, since you're joined at the hip,” Amanda giggled. Carrie choked back a laugh. 

 

“oh ha ha, you're hilarious,” Hermione grinned across the table. 

 

“Glad someone appreciates my humour,” Amanda winked. Draco looked between Hermione and Amanda trying to work out if he was supposed to laugh. 

 

The player he slid into a seat next to flinched slightly, glancing at Draco's covered forearm. He's started to shake a little as he felt his growing panic rising up inside him. This is a lot of people. They were all looking at him, assessing him as though he's something dangerous. Hermione looked at him concerned, her hand tightened on his thigh. She smiled at him before leaning across him, flashing her ‘mudblood’ scar at the player sat beside Draco. 

 

“It's true then?” The player asked staring at her arm. 

 

“Depends, what exactly have you heard about us?” Hermione asked roll in hand bringing it back to her plate. 

 

“He's a Death Eater and you fought against his family in the war. His aunt did that,” He said nodding at her arm as Draco stiffened. The whole table is silent, every face is turned towards them. He can feel Hermione start to quiver. 

 

“Draco is not a Death Eater,” she hissed. 

 

“He has the Mark on his arm, we've all seen it.”

 

“Having the mark doesn't make you a Death Eater,” Hermione scoffed. “He only did what he had to stay alive and prevent the monster living in his house killing his family.” 

 

“Oh,” He shifted uncomfortably. 

 

“Anyone else have anything to say about my coach’s past?” Hermione asked glaring around the table. 

 

Draco shifted in his seat as his face flushes. 

 

“You don't have to fight my battles…”

 

“Here, me defending you comes across better than you defending you,” she whispered back. 

 

Amanda and Carrie were smiling at them. Hermione became conscious of how close she's sat to him, how they lean into each other. In just a couple of days, she's become a little too comfortable around him. 

 

“So, Draco, are you single?” Carrie asked grinning. 

 

“Uh yeah,” He replied thrown by the very sudden change of topic. 

 

“Hermione, you're single too, aren't you?” Amanda asked leaning on her hands. 

 

The atmosphere around the table changed as a few of them look over intrigued.

 

“I am,” Hermione answered glaring at her teammate. 

 

“Draco, it's so good of you to be here on a volunteer basis,” Carrie said smiling at him, glancing at Hermione. 

 

“Well the filthy rich need to do  _ something  _ to occupy their time,” the stunningly gorgeous blonde man further down the table laughs. 

 

“Ignore him, Lynch is just jealous. His wealthy parents cut him off so he has to work for a living,” Amanda smirked. 

 

“My mother did threaten to cut me off if I didn't do something. Lynch? Aren't you related to that seeker that lost to Krum at the 422nd World Cup?” Draco asked.

 

“He's my uncle. Those were dirty tricks from Krum,” He muttered.

 

“Perfectly legal moves. Inspired, really?”

 

“Krum was a reckless player. I'm sure our Hermione won't resort to such tactics,” Lynch smiled.

 

“Did you see her tryout?” Draco laughed. “She flew sideways. Dives like Krum did aren't outside what she's capable of. Are you still in touch?” 

 

“We write. He visited for a month or two after the war,” Hermione shrugged. 

 

The rest of dinner was spent discussing the team's prospects for the coming season. 

 

When they break up after dinner, Draco pulled Hermione aside. 

 

“How do you feel after the massage and some food?” he asked quietly so they aren't overheard. 

 

“Yeah, I'm alright,” she blushed thinking about her dream, her plan, and just standing this close to him. 

 

“How do you feel about having a swim this evening?” 

 

“The pool is shut now,” she frowned.

 

“Well, I was thinking we could use the one at the Manor,” He said looking away from her, running his fingers through his hair. He's waiting for her to say no, she could see it in his face. 

 

“Yeah, okay. I'll need to grab some extra stuff from the kit room,” she smiled, there's a little skip to her step, she can start working on her plan tonight. 

 

Draco was waiting in the corridor for her when a shadow loomed over him. He flinched as a hand lands on his shoulder. 

 

“Evening Malfoy, jumpy aren't you?” Lynch laughed. 

 

“What do you want, Lynch?” Draco almost growled.

 

“To remind you of your place in society. You may be rich but you're scum. Your family name is mud. She's too good for the likes of you. Remember your place,” Lynch sais knocking into Draco's shoulder as he passed. 

 

Moments later Hermione emerged, she finds Draco leaning against the wall, sulking. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked concerned. 

 

“Yeah. Yeah everything's fine,” He said, staring hard at her. “Are you sure you're okay with coming to the Manor?”

 

“As long as we avoid one room in particular I don't see a problem.”

 

Draco nodded before walking off down the corridor. She followed behind wondering what happened in the few minutes she was changing.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco was quiet. Not that he's ever particularly chatty, but this evening his silence seemed to have more depth. He led them to a room overlooking the pitch, it's a private viewing room with one-way glass. She's about to ask either one or a million questions when he pulled her over to the fireplace. 

 

“This one has a direct link to the Manor,” Draco said holding out the floo powder for her to take a pinch. With a hand on the small of her back, he pushed her towards it. She took the hint and floos to Malfoy Manor. 

 

The decor took her by surprise. She did not expect light wood and pale walls. Sheer fabrics hang at the windows. If she hadn't of known it was the same house, she would never have believed it. Draco stepped out of the fireplace as Narcissa enters the room.

 

“Evening Mother, we are just here to use the swimming pool. No need to say anything at all,” Draco said pulling Hermione quickly from the room.

 

“Was there a particular reason you didn't want me talking to your mother?” 

 

“She's interfering and manipulative,” Draco muttered walking faster. Every room they pass through has the same bright colours scheme. 

 

“Someone's been busy decorating,” she said trying to take it every detail.

 

“Mother wanted it all changed after the war. She felt it was for the best. I didn't see any reason to argue, Father…” He trailed off with a sigh.

 

Hermione's curiosity blazed, not much was known about the fate of Lucius Malfoy. Before she can ask, they emerge into a large room with one of the largest pools she's ever seen in the middle. It even has a diving board. What captured her attention most is the walls and ceiling. Two of the walls are glass, with the stone exterior of the Manor making up the other two. The ceiling was an extension of the glass walls. 

 

Here, in the countryside away from the bright lights of the towns and cities, the stars were visible. Shining down brightly there were so many more than she could usually see. One particular constellation catches her eye. She looks down to meet Draco's eyes, he's kicking off his shoes and pulling off his shirt. Here, in the starlight, he looks incredible. His brooding hasn't faded. If anything, as she removes her clothes he looks sadder. At one point, she thought she caught a flash of pain in his eyes. 

 

Hermione hadn't forgotten her plan. She does want to have sex with him, but as she watches him dive into the pool, she wondered if that would be enough anymore. What sacrifices would they have to make? Could they continue to work together? Or would he be replaced? 

 

“What are we doing?” she asked after diving in.

 

“Swimming,” He said looking at her as if she were stupid. 

 

“I meant, are we doing laps or just swimming about?” 

 

“Just enjoy the water, not everything has to be an exercise,” He said laying back in the water looking up at the sky. “This is where I've spent most of my time the last couple of years, since I stopped going out.”

 

It's something she'd guessed but to hear him volunteer the information is unexpected. She followed his example and led back in the water. She floated, staring up at the night sky. As she looked from one Draco to another, she made a decision. It's time to make a move. She splashed him to get his attention, he sputtered as she splashed him again. 

 

“Yes,” Draco sighed dramatically. 

 

“You've been different since dinner. What wrong? Did someone say something?” Hermione asked. 

 

Draco hand rubbed his forearm, “I'm not good with a lot of people. Groups like that is… hard.”

 

She swam over to tread water in front of him. He flinched as he meets her eyes, closer than he'd anticipated. 

 

“We're alone now,” she whispered, moving closer still. They're almost touching, legs brush against each other under the water as they work to keep themselves afloat. 

 

Draco's brain froze with Hermione this close. He shouldn't have brought her here, especially after what Lynch said; he was right, Hermione did deserve better than an emotionally crippled ex-Death Eater. She moved even closer to him. He should be moving away. He shouldn't be staring at a drop of water on her eyelash. She shouldn't be close enough that he could see that tiny detail. 

 

Hermione looked up, “Draco,” she whispered, eyes still fixed upwards. He could see it, reflected in her eyes, his namesake. The constellation he was named after. She looked back at him, one Draco becomes another within her dark eyes. 

 

“Draco,” she purred close to his lips. He can taste her breath, feel the heat of it as it puffs against his. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as she moved even closer. He couldn't do this, he shouldn't do this. Barely an inch between them, she was taking it slow enough that he could move away, that he could stop this madness. 

 

Lynch’s words echo in his ears. The right thing would be to move away, to not let her, to not want her to close that gap. He's never been very good at doing the right thing. 

 

“Fuck it,” he muttered before surging forwards, closing the gap. As his lips meet hers, he knew he was lost. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers curled into his damp hair. 

 

They both became so lost in their kiss, they forget to kick, dunking them both beneath the water. They come up separately, both desperately gasping for air, having been deprived before they were submerged. Hermione giggled as she pulls him into the shallower water. Her back pressed against the side of the pool as she pulled him into her embrace once more. 

 

He braced his hands on the edge of the pool, either side of her head. He doesn't trust himself to have them below the water. The sound of a shutting door startled them both. They look around, they're alone. Draco groaned as he realises what that means. 

 

They were seen, by his mother. 

 

He pulled away from her as everything comes crashing down. This morning, he'd vowed to himself to be more professional. He's her coach, he shouldn't be snogging her in the starlight in his pool. 

 

He climbed out of the pool, he grabbed a towel, drying himself off. He doesn't look at her, not once. 

 

“I'll see you bright and early tomorrow for our nine laps. I expect you to be ready to run dead on eight,” He said, before letting the door shut behind him, leaving her alone in the pool. 

 

Hermione stared at the closed door. He left her, alone, in his house. She pulled herself out of the pool. Her thoughts are sluggish. Her fingers brushed across her lips, they still tingle from the caresses he gave them with his own. She dried herself and pulls on her dress. She remembers the way back to the fireplace, having stared at everything in her path on the way to the pool. 

 

“Leaving so soon,” a voice asked from behind her. Hermione whirled around. 

 

“Yes, I think I was dismissed,” Hermione replied blushing. Her eyes meet those of the woman before her. 

 

“I didn't mean to disturb you both? Where is my son?” Narcissa asked carefully. 

 

“I don't know. He just… left,” Hermione sighed. “He told me he'd see me tomorrow morning at practice and left.”

 

“I see. Well, good night, Miss Granger,” Narcissa said. Hermione nodded and used the fireplace to floo back to the stadium, then home. As the girl disappeared in a flash of green flames, Narcissa left in search of her son. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had intended to get to post more chapters today but I got distracted by BTS's concept photos. Park Jimin is a dangerous man, him and his damn v line.

Narcissa found her son on his bed, led flat on his back, tossing a Quaffle in the air. 

 

“Knock, knock,” she said tapping on his open door. 

 

“Oh, so you  _ do  _ know how to knock,” Draco said sending a glare in her direction. 

 

“I didn't know there was anything between you to  _ be  _ interrupting. I was just coming to check if you needed anything.”

 

“Privacy,” He scoffed. 

 

“For what exactly? How far were you planning to take… whatever that was?” 

 

“There was nothing planned about it. Don't worry, it won't happen again,” He sighed. 

 

“Why not?” she asked, concerned at his dejected tone. 

 

“Because I'm her coach; I'm supposed to be professional with her.”

 

“You're a volunteer. Club rules don't disallow it,” Narcissa said waving her hand in the air, “anyway, you should consider her, you could do a lot worse.” 

 

Draco sat up abruptly. He looked around at his mother and groaned. 

 

“This… this is one of your schemes, isn't it? I can't believe I didn't see it. I am not one of your little puppets; I won't just dance on command. It's like you have no understanding of how we're seen out there. Just… get out,” He deflated, sinking back onto the bed. 

 

Narcissa dithered in the doorway, maybe this time, she overstepped. She left plotting her next move. 

* * *

The next morning, Draco got up and went to the pitch as normal; vowing to himself to pretend last night didn't happen. He met Hermione on the pitch. He bit his lip, swallowing a groan at her outfit of choice. A certain pink sports bra, over another one, and a particular pair shorts adorn her body. He tried to ignore the rush of blood to his groin that accompanied a flash of memories.

 

Her eyes flicked to the tent in his shorts. She smirked, pleased to have elicited the reaction she'd hoped for. He ignored her knowing look. 

 

“Ginny wants to go for lunch today, is that okay?” she asked him.

 

“Yeah, whatever. Just don't eat crap,” Draco snapped before taking off to start their run. Despite his head start, Hermione is right on his heels. They run all nine laps without speaking. 

 

Draco stretched her out just as the day before. He barked orders and sighed when she didn't follow them quickly enough. Hermione was getting steadily more and more annoyed with his attitude. He was almost… mean. 

 

When the manager called lunch break, she was the one to storm away, determined that he wouldn't see the tears threatening to spill. She showered and changed quickly; pleased she hasn't seen him. Ginny is there waiting for her. The two girls flooed to Diagon Alley to have a cake, or five, for lunch. 

 

* * *

  
Draco stared after her as she stormed off, trying desperately to convince his sinking gut that it was better this way, and that those weren't tears in her eyes. 

 

“She's caught on then?” Lynch said shoving past him. “Realised what a piece of shit you actually are.” 

 

“Hey, Lynch, shut the fuck up,” Amanda said, having heard the whole exchange. “You might be the best keeper in the league, doesn't mean we have to listen to the shit that comes out of your mouth.”

 

“Guess there really aren't any true ladies here,” Lynch smirked. “Well not since Hermione isn't on the pitch.” 

 

Draco laughed, “Oh, I can't wait to see the day you meet the real Hermione Granger.”

 

Amanda looped her arm in his pulling him away before he can get in trouble. 

 

“Hermione away?” 

 

“She's gone for lunch with a friend,” Draco said stiffly.

 

“Good. You can eat with us today,” Amanda grinned at him. 

 

Carrie appeared at his other side, bouncing clapping her hands, “Oh goody, lunch with the hottie.” 

 

He looked from one to the other, there was no getting out of this. He prepared himself for the longest lunch break he's ever experienced. 

* * *

So far, Hermione had inhaled three different kinds of cake and was steadily working through her fourth.

 

“Are you sure you should have that much cake before flying this afternoon?” Ginny asked concerned. 

 

“Yep, Draco said “No crap” I'll show him not to give me orders, the git,” Hermione said scrapping up crumbs before pulling a fifth towards her. 

 

“Isn't that his job? You know, to tell you what to do?” Ginny asked gently, concern for her best friend increasing. 

 

Hermione stopped, fork hovering in the air, she met Ginny's eyes, and burst into tears. 

 

“What did he do?” Ginny asked darkly. 

 

“It was me. It's all my fault. I… we… it's just…”

 

“Okay. Breathe. Now clearly I'm missing something here. Start at the beginning, tell me everything, preferably in full sentences,” Ginny said handing Hermione a napkin. 

 

“... and then today, he's just… he's a little… mean,” Hermione finished after telling Ginny, in great detail, everything that had happened. 

 

Ginny sat back in her seat blinking dumbly. 

 

“Hermione… I think… I mean I can't be sure but… I think he likes you,” Ginny said carefully. “like… he likes you, likes you. Not just in a sexy way either.”

 

Hermione's fork fell to her plate with a clatter, cake forgotten.

* * *

After years of being in Slytherin, Draco thought he knew of every sly, devious and completely underhand way of extracting information from someone. 

 

That was before he sat down to lunch with these two women. 

 

“So you're saying you  _ don't  _ want to have sex with her?” Amanda asked, watching his every tiny movement, she's probably noting every minute change in his breathing too. 

 

“Of  _ course  _ he  _ wants  _ to. I don't even swing that way but I wouldn't say no, ya know. What  _ I  _ think he's saying is, he thinks he shouldn't, because of here or something,” Carrie said very fast. 

 

Draco's head fell forward hitting the table. He mumbled some unintelligible words. 

 

“We can't hear you,” Carrie said gripping his hair, tugging to lift his head. 

 

He glared at her and she let go. 

 

“She can do better,” He said slumping into his seat. 

 

“I hate that expression,” Amanda began, “Are you incapable of emotions? Are you planning to deliberately hurt her? Do you have zero respect for her?” 

 

“No, I do feel things, why would I want to hurt her and of course I have respect for her,” He said rolling his eyes. 

 

“No you don't. Just from saying “she could do better” shows how little respect for her opinion. Isn't it up to her whether or not she feels she could “do better”? Shouldn't she know her options so she can make a decision? Maybe she sees something in you that you don't, tell me, can you predict the future?” 

 

“No,” He scoffed. 

 

“Then you have no place saying she could do better. What if she never has sparks with anyone else ever again and you become her biggest regret because of what didn't happen. It's harder, regretting the chances you didn't take, rather than those you did,” Amanda finished. 

 

Talk turned to Quidditch for the rest of lunch. Draco's mood steadily improved. Once he's finished he went into the corridor, heading in the direction of their kit room. There, just outside the door, was Hermione and Lynch. They're talking, Hermione laughs at something he's said. He's too far away to hear what he saying but Hermione is smiling up at the handsome blond man. She turned and disappeared into their room. 

 

Lynch looked up and saw him, “lurking in corridors, Malfoy? That's okay. At least you know I'm making progress.” He winked, turning away laughing. 

 

Malfoy stared at Lynch’s retreating figure. Maybe he doesn't deserve to have someone as incredible as Hermione; but neither did Lynch. Amanda's words echo in his head, he took a deep breath and followed Hermione into the kit room. 


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione was stood just inside the door of the kit room. She heard what Lynch said to Draco, she suspected it wasn't the first thing he's said either. 

 

She moved away from the door to busy herself with folding already folded clothes. Really, she was just waiting for him. After her lunch with Ginny, she had a few things she wanted to say. 

 

Hermione didn't get the chance. 

 

“Lightweight gear today, again,” Draco said not looking at her. “We need to get out there, we're already running late.” she watched as he pulled his own on in record time and disappeared out the door. 

 

She huffed, pulled on her own gear followed him outside. 

 

Within ten minutes, it's apparent that cake was not a good lunch for Quidditch players for a number of reasons. She managed five more minutes of maneuvers before she had to rush to the ground, roll off her broom to vomit at the side of the pitch. She heard Draco land behind her. 

 

“What did you eat?” he demanded staring at the mess she's made. 

 

“Cake,” she admitted, spitting away the last of it. She got shakily to her feet as he handed her a bottle of water. She rinsed out her mouth then took small sips. 

 

“Why would you eat what was apparently a lot of cake before flying?” he asked pinching his nose, trying to control his temper. 

 

“You pissed me off, ignoring me like that. It hurt,” she shrugged. 

 

“So this is your revenge?” his mouth quirked in amusement.

 

“You said no crap. So, I just had crap,” she says before finishing off the bottle. “It's the only way I could think to get back at you for leaving me like you did.” 

 

Hermione threw the empty bottle at him, storming off to the showers. He stared after her; Amanda and Carrie landed beside him. 

 

“Is she okay?” Carrie asked.

 

“Why are you still stood here? Go!” Amanda saod shoving him in the direction Hermione went. “Vamoose!” she all but growled. 

 

Draco sprinted off to catch her up, reaching the door not long after it swung closed. He found her in the shower room, brushing her teeth. 

 

Excuses, apologies and explanations chased around his head as she spotted him in the mirror. The words that come out of his mouth are not the ones he meant to say. 

 

“Did Lynch ask you out?” he knew it was stupid, he knew he shouldn't have said it, he's not even sure where that came from. But stood there looking at her, it's all he could think of. Was he too late? 

 

“No, he didn't. Not sure why you care though,” Hermione said wiping her mouth. 

 

Draco opened his mouth to speak but words fail him. Apparently, this was just as bad as saying something stupid. 

 

“So you have nothing to say to me? Nothing at all?” she asked finally turning to face him. 

 

“I'm… confused,” He admitted.

 

“Has Lynch said something to you? Because since dinner yesterday you've been strange. I thought… never mind,” she said cheeks flushing. 

 

“Lynch said… things,” He said staring at the ground. 

 

“Oh don't listen to that… that… Douche canoe,” she groaned stamping her foot. 

 

“What's a canoe?” 

 

“Oh that doesn't matter,” she huffed, “the point is, do you really think I care what he thinks?” 

 

“The things he said…”

 

“I don't give a shit what he said to you. Last night… why did you just leave? Was it because of your mother?” 

 

“I thought… I thought you deserved better,” He muttered looking away from her. 

 

“Don't I get a say?” 

 

“I'm…”

 

“Do you really think I don't know who you are? That after all these years I'm walking into this with rose-tinted glasses. There isn't anything you can say I haven't already considered. Being with you will probably be one of the most selfish things I've ever done. But I don't care, I want this. I want  _ you, _ ” she pleaded. 

 

His heart stopped. His breath, time, the universe, all of it. It just stopped. She wanted him. His feet carried him forward so fast it was as if he had Apparated. His lips met hers as his hands went to her hips, pulling her flush against his body. Suddenly, none of it mattered. It's better than the night before. The doubts were gone. Her admission gave him an excuse to be selfish too. 

 

He stilled her hands as they started working loose the buckles on her gear. 

 

“No. Not yet,” He said as she groaned. Her head nestles into his shoulder. 

 

“Why not?” she whined, her hand sliding down his covered body, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her before she reached her destination. 

 

“Because I want to take my time with you. I want to enjoy you. That, and we are meant to be flying now. Clearly, you're no longer sick. So back to work we go,” He grinned stepping away. 

 

She grabbed her broom off the floor and walks out onto the pitch once more. He doesn't bring his broom. 

 

Hermione mounted her broom, waiting for him to catch up. The broom was uncomfortable with wet, throbbing between her thighs. It isn't helped when he mounted behind her. He moved close enough she could feel the evidence of the effect she had had on him. 

 

“Today, we're going to have our first attempt at hands free flying,” He said leaning in breathing behind her ear. 

 

Hermione bit back a protest. His confidence was back, that swagger he'd lost in the last twenty-four hours. His hands slid along her thighs.

 

“We’ll be working these muscles hard,” He told her. “Take off as normal, not too high though. A little higher, that's good. Now hover, and spread your arms out.”

 

Following his orders without hesitation is easy again, she trusted him. 

 

Draco's hands gripped her waist, holding her steady. He moved his hands along her arms, taking her hands wrapping them around his neck. Stretching her body along his own. He returned his hands to her legs. 

 

“All you have to control the broom is these muscles here,” He said dancing his fingers along the inside of her thighs. She squirmed a little under his touch. 

 

“If this is your idea of foreplay, honestly at this point, it's hardly necessary,” she breathed. 

 

He chuckles by her ear, “No, Hermione. I'm just teaching you how to fly. Foreplay? Foreplay is me using my fingers and tongue,” He said licking along her ear, “to bring you such intense pleasure all you can do is moan. But that's later, for now, we fly.”

 

“How exactly do I do that?” she asked.

 

“Squeeze the broom with your thighs as you would with your hands. Just give it a try,” Draco said.

 

Hermione tensed her thighs and the broom lurched forward. She did it again, squeezing gentler, she moved a little more controlled. She shifted her hips and started to turn. 

 

“Did you want to go this way?” 

 

“Just experimenting,” she said, turning them the other way. 

 

“Okay, let's try it another way,” He said. He swung around her so he's facing her before turning around so he's sat in front. He slid back so he's sat directly in front of her. 

 

“That was…” she said staring at his back. 

 

“It's just what's possible when you're both flexible and strong,” He winked over his shoulder. He took her hands putting them on his thighs, “Just feel what I do.”

 

Hermione felt him more the muscles in his thighs, steering the broom. They picked up speed and he still has full control. She raked her nails down his thighs, causing the broom to buck underneath them. 

 

“That wasn't playing fair,” He said using his hands to slow the broom. 

 

“You were showing off,” she countered. 

 

“Of course I was.” He took his hands off the broom again, bringing them down to land gently, steering without touching. 

 

“Cocky, Malfoy,” Lynch said, bursting their bubble. Draco tensed; preparing himself for a confrontation, because for a moment, he forgot he was with Hermione Granger.

 

“What was that Lynch? I didn't catch it,” Hermione asked carefully.

 

“Malfoy and I… we have an… understanding,” Lynch grinned, “You know, about what his place in the world is.”

 

Hermione unleashed her full death stare. 

 

“No, I don't. Please enlighten me,” Hermione said controlling her tone. 

 

“Well, you know someone of  _ his  _ background should have limited… expectations,” Lynch smirked at Draco. 

 

Hermione felt Draco's hand twist in the back of her shirt, the other wrapping around her wand arm. It's as if he knew she has violent tendencies. 

 

She took a deep breath. 

 

“I didn't know you harboured such prejudices, Lynch. That's… disappointing,” Hermione said. She takes a step back bringing her body against Draco's.

 

“Prejudices?”

 

“Yes, that you judge someone for their actions as a teenager. Those actions being a direct result of the environment they were raised. He's  _ my  _ coach; it doesn't matter to me. So why is it any business of yours?” 

 

“I'm just trying to look out for you. Being associated with such a family as his…” 

 

“I can look after myself just fine. A few years ago, people said the same about being associated with me. Be very careful about getting on my bad side. I am very well connected. If I hear you've so much as breathed in the direction of my coach, I will make your life very, very difficult,” Hermione warned. 

 

Draco tugged on the back of her shirt, pulling her away from Lynch before any further threats are made. 

 

As they pass the manager, Hermione informed him that she won't be present for team dinner that night, and neither will her coach. The manager just nodded, looking from his star Keeper to his star Seeker, glad not to be in the middle of that. 

 

Hermione pushed Malfoy into their kit room, his shakes have begun already. She placed her hands either side of his face, bringing his eyes up to meet hers. She let go, entwining her fingers with his. His breathing steadied, the fine tremor stopped.

 

“So, your place or mine?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows. Draco laughed before giving her a quick kiss. 

 

They grabbed their things, not bothering taking the time to change. 

 

A few more moments are lost beside the fireplace that will take them to Malfoy Manor. 

“Soon, not far to go now,” Draco promised as he pulled away from her kisses. 

 

Hermione flooed first, Draco is right behind her. When he stepped from the fireplace his stomach dropped. 

 

“Oh, wonderful,” Narcissa said spotting them, “Just in time for dinner.” she smiled brightly at them. 

 

Hermione looked at Draco, he ran a hand through his hair, she knew that gesture. It made her sigh.

 

“I do wish you weren't in your training clothes though,” Narcissa frowned before turning away. 

 

“So do I,” Draco whispered to Hermione. She suppressed a snort of laughter. 

 

Narcissa summoned them with a crook of her finger to follow her. 

 

Their plans for an early night were cut short. 


	11. Chapter 11

“I'm sorry,” Draco mouthed to Hermione behind his mother's back. 

 

“We should have gone to mine,” she mouthed back. Draco nodded, glancing at his mother's back. 

 

“I'm sorry,” He said again. He doesn't know what his mother is after, it makes him nervous. 

 

They entered a small dining room, much smaller than Hermione had been expecting. It was a little more intimate than she was comfortable with. 

 

“It's so good of you to join us for dinner, Miss Granger. I'm pleased Draco finally asked you,” Narcissa smiled taking her seat. 

 

The pair exchanged a look as they sit. Clearly, neither of them planned to enlighten her about their actual plans for the evening. 

 

As Hermione met Narcissa’s eyes, she saw the challenge there. Narcissa was no fool, of course she knew why Hermione was there. 

 

“Thank you for having me, Mrs Malfoy,” Hermione said pleasantly. 

 

“Please, call me Narcissa. Now, I wonder if Draco has let you in on our little secret,” Narcissa said leaning forwards. 

 

“Our secret? Which one, mother?” Draco laughed as he picked up his knife and fork. Hermione hadn't seen the food appear. 

 

“Hmm, about the club, of course,” she said taking her own cutlery, eyes still fixed on Hermione. 

 

“No, I haven't yet,” Draco replied stiffly. 

 

“Oh goody,” Narcissa said smiling, “Now you can't tell anyone, but, Malfoy investments own the club.” 

 

Hermione sunk back into her seat. Narcissa was staring at her, watching, waiting. 

 

“That makes sense, Draco being hired so quickly, the private floo… I suspected, of course,” Hermione answered shrugging, she risked a glance at Draco. He looked… proud. 

 

“Miss Granger, what exactly are your intentions towards my son? Clearly, it wasn't your intention to come for dinner, at least I hope not dressed like that. After that scene in the pool last night it has me wondering. My son is no woman's whore, Miss Granger.”

 

Hermione's jaw fell open, words were lost to her. 

 

“Mother!” Draco shouted getting to his feet, his chair drops to the floor. 

 

“Draco, there is no need to be so dramatic. It was a fair question,” Narcissa said looking at him concerned. 

 

“You're always crossing lines, interfering in my life. I don't need it. I can do just fine myself,” He insisted. 

 

“I just don't want to see you hurt, surely you can understand that. You've been barely interested in anything for years. You were… existing. Now, you're alive again. I won't let anyone destroy that,” Narcissa said standing up. 

 

“I am an adult. I can make my own choices. I'm not as fragile as you seem to think I am. Come on, Hermione. We're finished with dinner,” Draco said taking her hand, pulling her up from her seat. 

 

“Then I suppose we'll meet again at breakfast, Miss Granger,” Narcissa called after them. As the door slammed shut, Narcissa finally lets loose the laugh she was holding back. Young people were so easy to manipulate. 

  
  


Draco dragged Hermione down the hall. He wanted to put as much distance between them and his mother as possible. He pulled her into his bedroom, slamming the door shut and putting every warding spell he knows on his room.

 

“Isn't that a bit extreme?” Hermione asked speaking for the first time. 

 

“You've met my mother, I'm actually worried it's not enough,” He muttered waving his wand, testing his work. 

 

“Draco, we need to talk,” Hermione said.

 

“I hate those words,” Draco said pouting. 

 

Hermione took his hand, leading him to the bed. She sat cross legged and he knelt beside her. 

 

“You go first,” He muttered not looking at her. 

 

“I want you,” she said gripping his chin to bring his face up to look at her, “I want this to be the start of something, not the end. We already had this conversation, did you really think your mother could scare me off,” she laughed. 

 

“My mother is pretty scary,” Draco warned. 

 

“I've faced worse,” Hermione said shrugging. 

 

An awkward silence filled the room, each waiting for the other to make the first move. 

 

“You know, you haven't actually told me what you want?” Hermione asked, fingers tracing the pattern of his bedding. She stared hard at the pattern. 

 

“I didn't?” Draco asked, eyebrows scrunching together. 

 

“You said you want me, but you didn't exactly specify how long you intended for that to last,” Hermione said carefully. She was still avoiding looking at him. 

 

“I want you for as long as you'll put up with me. I know it doesn't get better than you: you're smart, beautiful, stunning body, but I knew all that. What I didn't know was you're also fun, sexy, and amazing on a broom. What more could I want? I'm the one punching above their weight here, and once it's known you're with me, people will assume all sorts of things. You could be hexed in the street,” Draco said as his shakes began. 

 

Hermione threaded her fingers through his, her touch steadied him. 

 

“See, just the thought of going out in public gives me tremors. I'm a coward. Always have been, probably always will be,” Draco said pulling his hands from hers, dropping his head into them. 

 

She crawled across to him, kneeling in front of him, she pulled his fingers away from his face. 

 

“Bravery, is not the absence of fear. Bravery, is feeling that fear and not letting it conquer you. You can only be brave when you're scared. Gryffindor, remember, we're the experts on bravery. You, Draco, are not a coward. Quite the opposite in fact,” Hermione smiled at him. 

 

“So, what's the absence of fear?” Draco asked. 

 

“Stupidity,” Hermione grinned. 

 

“There's a lot of that in Gryffindor too,” Draco snorted. 

 

Hermione hit him on the arm. 

 

“Owe no need to be so violent,” Draco said rubbing his arm, “I'm delicate.” 

 

“You? Delicate? I've seen your muscles, lean yes, but definitely wouldn't describe you as  _ delicate _ ,” Hermione scoffed. 

 

“And did you like my muscles?” he asked, the mischievous side of him re-emerging. 

 

“Maybe, I'm not sure, it's not like I ever got a close look at them,” she said shrugging. 

 

“Maybe we should fix that,” he smirked, playing with the claps on his Quidditch gear. 

 

“I suppose, it's not like we have anything else to do tonight,” Hermione replied, trying not to seem too eager. 

 

“I don't know, we could go for a run, or maybe a swim, we did get interrupted last night. I think I've got a chessboard around here somewhere,” He said looking around. 

 

“Oh no, I'm terrible at chess,” she snorted. 

 

“You mean there's something that the great Hermione Granger can't do!” Draco exclaimed bringing his hand to his chest. 

 

“Well, statistically there had to be something,” she said rolling her eyes. 

 

“You know, I hate it when you roll your eyes at me,” Draco said darkly.

 

“We're off the clock, technically, right now, you aren't my coach. Therefore, you can't punish me for it,” she said then sticks her tongue out at him. 

 

Draco watched the progress of her tongue as it darted out. 

 

“It's like you're begging for a spanking,” Draco said, eyes fixed on her tongue as it slipped back inside her mouth. 

 

“Maybe I am,” she whispered, much closer than he remembered her being. 

 

He looked up into her warm eyes as her fingers reached up brushing along his cheekbones. 

 

“Enough teasing,” Hermione said, her other hand sliding up his thigh. 

 

Draco's fingers gripped the back of her neck, bringing her even closer towards him. He rested his forehead against hers, breath mingling. 

 

No more delays. This was it. A kiss they can follow through on. 

 

Draco watched her eyelids flutter shut. He brushed his lips against hers in a gentler touch than previous kisses. 

 

He was ready.

 

It's time. 


	12. Chapter 12

Their gentle, slow kiss was just as intoxicating as the others were. Draco felt himself become lost in the way her lips move with his, in the taste of her tongue, in her tiny gasps of breath. 

 

Her fingers slid underneath his Quidditch gear, gripping the hem of the shirt, tugging it over his head. Underneath, he was wearing the pale blue t-shirt he picked out  _ that _ day. 

 

Hermione's hands traced across the muscles in his chest through the shirt as she slid her hands down to the bottom of the t-shirt, pulling that off him too. 

 

Removing her own shirt quickly, she avoided becoming too distracted staring at him. His hands wrapped around her bare waist, sliding up to her sports bra as she kisses him again. 

Draco froze as his hands ran over the fastenings of her sports bra. 

 

“Umm, Hermione, how does this…” He asked hands still searching. 

 

Hermione giggled as she slips the first one up over her head, unfastened and pulled off the second, leaving her naked from the waist up. 

 

“I've decided I hate these things,” He said grabbing the discarded material, throwing it off the bed. 

 

Hermione's giggles were replaced with a gasp as his hands cup her breasts, kneading softly, fingertips brushing against her nipples. She arched into him, hands gripping his hair as his mouth finds her nipple. Pleasure shot through her, increasing her need for him. Her hands went to the fastenings on his trousers, trying to release them. 

 

Draco pulled her hands away, holding them over her head as he moves them so she's led down on the bed. He grabbed his wand, muttering a spell, causing the Slytherin tie that had been draped there to wrap around her wrists, securing her to the headboard. 

 

“Hey,” she said tugging on her restraints. 

 

“I told you, I want to take my time with you; I don't trust you with your hands free just yet,” Draco laughed, pulling off her trousers and underwear leaving her completely naked. 

 

Draco sat back on his heels, staring at her. 

 

“Open your legs,” He said in the same tone he uses when coaching her. Just like then, her body responds to his voice before her mind. She opened her legs wide, knees bent.

 

“Good girl, I can see how wet you are, is that all for me?” He crawled over her, sliding two fingers through her damp folds making her moan. 

 

His mouth found her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her neck and along her collarbone as he worked his mouth down her body, his fingers still making slow strokes through her lips, barely brushing where she's most sensitive. 

 

Draco hesitated, hovering above her, his hot breath teasing her nipples. Hermione opened her eyes to watch him. That must have been what he was waiting for because as her eyes meet his, his tongue darts out, flicking across her hardened nipple. He blew cold air through his teeth across the dampness left by his tongue; before Hermione can react to the changing sensations, he closed his hot mouth around her, drawing the sensitive bud in as he sucks hard. 

 

Hermione arched up into him, begging for more, hands tugging at her restraints, desperate to clutch at his head, to hold him against her to make sure he never stops. 

 

She felt a scrap of teeth against the underside of her breasts as he moves across her body, switching to inflict his exquisite torture on her other breast. 

 

He started slowly down her body, he blew a raspberry against her belly button making her giggle, before nibbling along her hip bones, licking down the curve between leg and groin.

 

Hips bucked up to meet his mouth as his breath ghosts over her. Draco pressed his hand down on her stomach to hold her in place as he continues his slow exploration. 

 

“I want to taste every inch of you, I want to know what sound each spot brings from you, and then, once I'm done, maybe I'll let you cum,” He said smirking as she whined, pulling at the tie, trying to release her bound hands.

 

He made her eyes roll back, her legs shake as he finds spots she didn't even realise caused a reaction. Her thighs tighten around his head as he nips at her clit. Draco wrapped his lips around it, sucking, letting go to run the flat of his tongue across it. He slipped two fingers inside her stroking that spot that makes her eyes roll back.

 

A series of flicks and swirls from his tongue caused her legs to drop as she arched up. Her legs fell onto his shoulders, before falling open on the bed. 

 

Draco pulled away from her smirking as she whimpered, straining against his tie to release her hands. She tried to shut her legs to get friction, but his body prevents it. Hermione tried to rub herself against him but he pulled far enough away she can't reach him. 

 

“Beg for it,” Draco demanded, stroking his cock as he discarded the last of his clothing. Hermione's eyes are fixed on his hand moving up and down his length. 

 

“Please,” she said desperately, pride in tatters. “Please, Draco. I need it, I need your cock inside me. I'll do anything. Just please, fuck me.” 

 

Draco lined himself up, head pushing against her entrance. He pushed in hard as his palm makes contact with the headboard releasing her arms. She clutched at him as he leant his forehead against hers, letting her adjust to his size. 

 

Hermione's hands traced down his back to cup his arse, kneading the cheeks in her hands as she began to move against him, hips flicking up, grinding into to him to take more of him. 

 

He chuckled as he started to move, pulling out and pushing back in slowly. Thrusting against her until he finds a pace that made her moan, her fingers dig into his back as she clung on. 

 

As Draco's pace started to stutter, he reached between them to flick her clit, pushing her over the edge, screaming his name as she reached her release. As soon as Hermione, let go, he did too falling against her, pressing kisses across her face as she caught her breath. 

 

“Wow,” she said cuddling him close. All he can do is nod. 

 

Draco pulled out, rolling onto his side he pulls her back against him, holding her close. Neither wanted to break the moment, but the weight of words they haven't said is pressing on them. 

 

“Stay,” Draco said tightening his arms around her. “Stay, please.”

 

“I wasn't going anywhere,” she reassured him, her fingers tracing along his arms.

 

“Are you willing to endure breakfast?” Draco asked as he snuggled into her hair. 

 

“I can't avoid her forever. Come with me Friday night?” she asked. He stiffened behind her. 

 

“Dinner with the Potter's?” 

 

“Is that okay?” 

 

“If you can endure breakfast with my mother I can survive dinner with your friends,” Draco sighed. 

 

“What about training?” Hermione asked.

 

“As we keep getting told, I'm a volunteer. No rule against it as long as we're discreet.”

 

“Can we? Be discreet?” she giggled, turning in his arms. “It's been hard enough not touching you, but now…” 

 

Hermione ran her hand down his chest causing his breath to catch. Draco grabbed her wrist, stilling her hand before it reached its destination. 

 

“I know what you mean, but we do have some self control,” Draco said.

 

“I wouldn't say self control is something we've been good at,” Hermione scoffed, pushing him onto his back, straddling his waist. 

 

He stretched out beneath her, showing off the muscles in his chest. Her fingers followed the lines as she leant down to kiss him. 

 

“Definitely bad at self control,” she said pressing her lips to his again. 

 

“We do need to get some sleep, we have training tomorrow,” he reminded her. 

 

“I'm not tired. My coach has been working on my endurance,” she giggled. 

 

“Remind me to thank him sometime,” Draco said lining her up to sink down on his cock. 

 

With their fingers entwined, they moved together. When she collapsed against him spent, he brushed the hair from her face as he asked her the one question he most needs an answer to.

 

“If someone interrogates you about me, what would you say?” 

 

“I'd tell them you're mine,” she said sleepy wrapping her arms around him, eyelids drifting shut. 

 

Hers. The idea made his chest feel full. 

 

For the first time in years, he slept without nightmares. 


	13. Chapter 13

Waking up with her there was the best part of the whole night. The sex had been fantastic but just having her in his arms was bliss. Fear clawed at him as he watched her sleep. Now, for the first time in years, he had something to lose. Hermione began to stir in his arms. 

 

His heart stuttered as her eyes opened and looked up at him. He kept completely still, waiting for her reaction, for her to regret it, to change her mind. The pureblood girls his mother had brought home for him had always left before the morning. He’d never made it to  _ this  _ part. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to do. In this, he let her take the lead. 

 

“Morning,” Hermione smiled up at him sleepily. 

 

“Morning,” Draco said back carefully. 

 

“What’s wrong?” she groaned.

 

“It’s just… I didn’t expect you to still be here.”

 

“Oh,” Hermione said, stiffening, pulling away from him. 

 

“No, not like that… I didn’t mean… I’m messing this up, aren’t I?” he sighed. 

 

“So what did you mean?” Hermione pulled the covers up around her, tightening them against her body. 

 

“No one has ever stayed this long before,” he muttered looking away from her. 

 

“Draco, I’m not going anywhere,” she reassured him, finally understanding what he meant. 

 

“Actually, you are. We need to get up. Breakfast and training, it  _ is _ a work day,” Draco laughed. 

 

“Urgh breakfast,” Hermione groaned, remembering she’s due another chat with Narcissa. “We have time to shower first though, right?” 

 

“Maybe if we share,” he suggested. 

 

“That will not save us time,” Hermione giggled. 

 

“No but it might be a reminder of why it's worth dealing with my mother,” Draco laughed. 

 

“Alright, but if we're late for breakfast, do not tell her why,” Hermione said throwing back the covers and darting for the en-suite bathroom. 

 

Draco caught up to her quickly, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body. 

 

“Ah ah ah, no running away from me,” he grunted as he lifts her up, carrying her to the shower. He pushed her in and turns the water on cold, darting out of the way as she tried to pull him under the freezing spray. She stepped back as she turned the temperature up. 

 

“That was so immature,” Hermione said rolling her eyes at him, stepping back into the now warm spray. 

 

“You shouldn't have run from me, anyway as your coach, I feel it's my duty to inform you of the many benefits of cold showers,” Draco grinned stepping under the warm spray. 

 

“And as my boyfriend, shouldn't you be trying to avoid the possible libido reduction?” 

 

“I don't think that's a problem,” Draco muttered as he picks her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. “I'm here, naked, it would take a lot more than some cold water for you not to want to shag me.” 

 

“Cocky much?” she said leaning in to kiss him. 

 

“I like to think of it as confidence, and besides, it's not like anyone has ever accused me of being modest,” Draco scoffed, as he runs his fingers through her wet lips. 

 

Hermione's laugh turned to a moan as he stroked her. Her legs grip him tighter as her hand slides down between his legs wrapping her hand around his erection. 

 

“Stop teasing,” she moaned in his ear gripping him tighter. 

 

He chuckled deeply as he moved them, sinking easily into her slick channel, Hermione's head meets the tiles with a smack as he thrusts hard inside her. He slowed down the pace, using long, slow strokes. 

 

“It's meant to be a quick shower,” Hermione reminded him, eager for him to move faster again. 

 

“Someone feeling greedy,” he teased as he begins to move faster, her hands clutched at the smooth wall behind her, searching for something to grip onto. Eventually, her fingers find his back, he groaned as her nails raked his skin. Her pussy tightened around him as his name falls from her lips, body quivering with her release. The feel of her pulsing around him with the pain from the marks she left are enough to bring him over the edge too. 

 

After a few moments, Hermione lowered her feet to the floor as he pulled back enough to give her room to move. She winced as she puts weight through her legs. 

 

“Are you really expecting me to still do nine laps today?” Hermione groaned. 

 

“Maybe,” he smirked down at her, he's not even sure he can manage nine laps after last night. They worked each other hard and stayed up far later than they should have. 

 

Eventually, they managed to get dressed and make their way downstairs. They’re late for breakfast; the shower took longer than it should have. Draco laced their fingers together as they stand outside the closed doors of the breakfast room. He took a deep breath as his hand gripped the doorknob tightly. Hermione’s hand squeezed his, reminding him that she’s there and she’s not running away from him or his crazy mother. Her other hand closed over his on the doorknob, the pressure from her hand urging him to twist. The door pushed open and her shoulder nudged him forward. If she was ready then so was he. 

 

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d see you both this morning,” Narcissa said not turning around. 

 

“Mother…” Draco started but Hermione beats him to it. 

 

“Good morning, Mrs Malfoy,” Hermione smiled brightly as they sit opposite the matriarch. 

 

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” Narcissa smirked. 

 

“I did, thank you,” Hermione replied, no hint of the blush Draco was expecting. 

 

“If Draco is anything like his father, I expect you’re rather tired today.”

 

“Mother!” Draco shouted blushing. 

 

“Draco, we are all adults here. You must know that you weren’t delivered by owl. A beautiful young lady spent all night in your bed, do you really think I don’t know what you were up to. I’m just glad  _ this one _ had the good sense to stay,” Narcissa rambled. 

 

“Some people like to keep parts of their relationship private,” Hermione said cutting her off. “I can assure you, I don’t scare easy. If I did, I’d be more inclined to disappear due to your behaviour than Draco’s. I have limits, Mrs Malfoy. I won’t be discussing my relationship with your son with you. If I feel the need to discuss it, that’s what my friends are for. We aren’t friends, Mrs Malfoy.”

 

“So what would you say we are then?” 

 

“Family,” Draco interjected gripping Hermione’s hand where his mother can see. Hermione nodded her agreement. “We need to be going or we’ll be late for work,” Draco said suddenly, getting to his feet. He pulled Hermione up with him. 

 

“Visit any time you’d like,” Narcissa smiled as they leave. 

 

“My place next time?” Hermione giggled as they reach the fireplace. 

 

“Definitely,” he grinned at her, “anywhere that doesn’t have my mother sounds like bliss.”

 

They flooed through to the stadium, before they leave the Malfoy’s private box, Hermione pulled him in to kiss her. 

 

“We’re meant to be being discreet,” Draco reminded her between kisses.

 

“And we will be, out there. This is your family’s private box, emphasis on the private. I just needed one last kiss before I have to not touch you like this for several hours,” she giggled.

 

Draco gave her one last kiss and took two steps backwards. They stared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to move away. Draco ran his hands through his hair as she bit her lip, shifting her feet. 

 

“It’s gonna be a long day,” Draco sighed pouting, he reached for the door pulling it open. They could do this, they could be discreet, professional, just a player and their coach working together. What could possibly go wrong?


	14. Chapter 14

They didn't say a word as they walked to their kit room. They kept their backs to each other as they change, not trusting themselves to look and not touch. 

 

They didn't say a word as they start to run around the pitch. Neither managed the pace they normally would. Hermione was still a little sore from their activities and Draco’s back twinged from their time in the shower. Both of them would rather have been napping than running after their very late night. By the end of the second lap, they were both struggling. Draco slowed before stopping, leaning his hands on his knees as he panted trying to catch his breath. 

 

“That will do for the day,” he said standing up to stretch. 

 

“Thank Merlin for that,” Hermione said collapsing to the ground. 

 

“Tired?” 

 

“My boyfriend is a menace, he kept me up late,” Hermione giggled. 

 

“Hmm what a coincidence, my girlfriend couldn't keep her hands off me last night,” he grinned. 

 

“Lucky girl,” she smiled up at him. 

 

“Oh no. I know I'm the lucky one,” he said softly reaching out to help her to her feet. Hermione started to lean in to kiss him before pulling back abruptly, remembering where they are. 

 

“Stretches now,” he reminded her. They start as they always do, both dreading the part where they need to touch. 

 

Draco directed from afar, usually he’d take any opportunity he could to touch her, now he didn't trust himself, not when he knew the noises she can make when he touched her; the way she tasted when he ran his tongue down the valley between her breasts. Breasts that are currently jutting out towards him as she stretched. He can see the edge of a mark he left there last night, he shook his head to try to dislodge those thoughts when he realised he's licking his lips as he stared at her. 

 

Draco stopped and took deep, calming breaths as he tried to get himself under control. Hermione led down on her back. Draco knelt pushing her legs so her heels meet her bum. He can't bring himself to say the words he said last night under different circumstances. He pushed her knees and her legs fall open for him. 

 

“The view was better last night,” he said sighing. He doesn't push her body today. After some of the positions he had her in last night, it seemed cruel to push her too far today. 

 

He lifted her leg up straight, balancing it on his shoulder as he stretched out her hip. He took deep breaths and tried not to think of having her just like this the night before except…

 

“This was more fun naked,” Hermione groaned, taking the words straight from his head. 

 

“This is hard enough without comments like that,” he hissed at her. 

 

“Oh I know.” Hermione grinned moving a little, feeling him brush against her.

 

“Tonight, I'm giving you that spanking,” he whispered harshly. 

 

“Promises, promises,” she said winking at him. 

 

Draco scrambled away from her, getting to his feet. His shorts do nothing to hide his arousal. Hermione climbed to her knees, her cheek brushing against his shorts as she gets to her feet. He shuddered at the feel of her face pressed against him, of her breath as it disturbs the fabric encasing him. The sight of her on her knees before him elicited a gasp from him. That was something they hadn't done yet. He'd been so focused on her, they hadn't got around to that. He was regretting that now. 

 

“Today I'm going to suck your cock, swallowing every drop of your hot cum. I want to taste you,” Hermione whispered to him as she leans against him briefly. 

 

“We're meant to be being good,” he said groaning, shaking slightly as she tests his self control. 

 

“Oh I will be,” she said winking. 

 

Draco was just about to give in and grab her when Lynch claps him on the shoulder. 

 

“Is she still teasing you?” Lynch laughed. “Girls like her… all they do is tease. She'll never give it up to the likes of you.” 

 

Hermione turned to glare as Lynch’s grip on Draco’s shoulder pulled at his shirt, showing a brief glimpse of the marks left there. Lynch did a double take, pulling at the collar as Draco tried to move away from him. 

 

“Looks like he's got a kitten already, Hermione. Chasing after a man who is with someone isn't very classy,” Lynch laughed. Amanda and Carrie were making their way over, sensing trouble brewing. The manager glanced towards the Malfoy family box. He had a meeting there in ten minutes. 

 

Hermione noticed none of it. She saw red. Storming over she grabbed Draco’s t-shirt hem as he sighed, knowing what's coming next. She pulled it over his head tossing it away. She placed her hand over the scratches, lining her fingers up with the marks without looking. Lynch's eyes go wide as it hit him. 

 

Hermione made those marks. 

 

“Guess it wasn't that hard to get you to spread your legs after all,” Lynch sneered at her. 

 

A fist connected with his cheek and he was down on the ground before anyone can register what had happened. Only Hermione jumping up and down clutching her fist gave away which one of them got to him first. Draco threw a quick glare at Lynch, who was still on the ground as he took Hermione’s hand in both of his placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. He took out his wand to do a simple diagnostic spell to check if she’s broken anything, she hadn't. 

 

“He’s not good for you,” Lynch said getting to his feet, “Look at the effect he’s already had on you if you’re going around punching people for no good reason.”

 

“You called me a whore,” Hermione said turning to face him, Draco’s arm slipped around her waist to hold her back. 

 

“No, I didn’t. I implied it,” Lynch laughed. “You want to be careful still, too much time around that family will adle your brain. Rumour has it they have to keep Daddy Malfoy locked up because he’s completely lost it. St Mungo’s have a special ward for that, don’t you know?” 

 

Lynch started pulling faces and laughing, now it was Hermione holding back Draco. She’s never seen so much rage etched on his face before.

 

“That’s enough, Lynch,” the manager said striding across the grass. Narcissa is two steps behind him. 

 

“Looks like Mummy’s come to save you. You know, she’s still pretty hot. If your Daddy can’t take care of her properly, I’d love a chance to bend her over,” Lynch whispered, sneering at Draco. It took the combined efforts of Hermione, Carrie and Amanda to keep Draco from killing Lynch. Carrie had Draco’s wand stuck out of her back pocket. “I doubt she’d stay prim and proper when she’s got my cock pounding into her. But maybe you already know what that’s like, just how close are you and Mummy?” 

 

The manager finally reached them casting full body-binds on both men. Hermione knelt down beside Draco, whispering to him as Carrie and Amanda tell the manager what Lynch was saying. The manager sighed staring down at the troublesome player. He reached down and takes away the Captain badge and chucks it to Amanda. 

 

“Congratulations, you just got promoted,” He said grinning at the shock on Amanda’s face. He undid the spells and the two men got to their feet as the rest of the team gathered around Amanda congratulating her. 

 

When the manager released the spell, Draco got to his feet stiffly with Hermione’s help. She grips the back of his shorts in case he decided to try for Lynch again, not that she would blame him. Lynch stayed on the ground, shock holding him in place.

 

“I actually came down here with one announcement, but it seems there are several to make. Firstly, Lynch, go pack your gear, you’re sacked. I won’t accept that sort of behaviour. Granger, a verbal warning for you. I understand why you did it but assaulting a team member is not acceptable. Now as many of you know, our owner has been a secret partner for several years, however she feels now is the time to step out of the shadows and take a more active role. I’m sure all of you will give Mrs Malfoy a warm welcome,” He said starting to clap. Everyone but Lynch clapped too. He hadn’t moved, the shock has had a similar effect to the curse he had not long been under. 

 

Mrs Malfoy smiled at the team as she stepped forward. Draco narrowed his eyes at her wondering what she could possibly be up to now, the timing can’t be a coincidence. His mother always had a plan, some angle she was working. Hermione was still holding him around the waist as he resisted the urge to kill Lynch; he made it through the whole of the war without taking a life but that man was close to pushing him over the edge. He took a deep breath to focus on the manager as he started to speak again. 

 

“Lynch, leave before I have to have security escort you out. There’s nothing here for you now. I had been preparing to announce Oliver Wood as our new reserve Keeper, however it seems he’ll be needed to take a place on the team. While I don’t wish to embarrass them, I’m sure all of you will join me in congratulating Hermione and Draco on their new relationship. Such a wonderful thing that after all these years of knowing each other they would come to find love while with our team here,” The manager beamed at them as the team clapped and Amanda and Carrie whoop. 

 

“Guess we don’t have to be discreet,” Draco whispered to Hermione as his arms slide around her waist. She giggled as his breath tickles her ear. Neither of them resisted as a chant of “Kiss, kiss, kiss” erupted around them. They kept it quick, not wanting to risk getting carried away. 

 

“Lastly, a round of applause for Amanda, your new Captain,” the manager announced. Draco and Hermione joined in the clapping as the sound of doors slamming echoes around the stadium, signalling Lynch’s exit from the pitch. 

 

The kiss was the final straw. 


	15. Chapter 15

After the announcements, they were all dismissed for an early, extra long lunch. Full team practice would be held when they returned. Draco took Hermione by the hand, leading her off to their kit room without a word to anyone. Hermione said a quick congratulations to Amanda as they pass. She waved before turning back to continue her conversation with Narcissa; that combination made Draco uneasy but his main goal is privacy with Hermione. Carrie passed him his wand as they walk past her. He gave a grateful nod but didn’t say anything, not trusting himself to speak yet. His blood was still pounding from not beating on Lynch. 

 

Once the door shuts behind them, Draco cast privacy charms on it to stop anyone interrupting them. He threw his wand as he gathered Hermione into his arms. His hands shake as he twists them into her shirt, trying to regain control. Not feeling used to be easy, but that was a long time ago. Burying his head in her shoulder he took deep breaths as her fingers run through his hair. 

 

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked him after a few moments of silence. 

 

“I want him dead,” Draco hissed, barely able to contain his rage. The things that man had said had hit him where it hurt most and he hadn’t got one single shot back. Hermione’s punch softened it a little but he needed his own taste of revenge. “Give me a reason not to kill him.” 

 

“We can't have sex if you go to Azkaban,” she said, her hand tracing down his body to cup him. 

 

“That's a very good point,” Draco said turning his head to kiss along her neck. 

 

Hermione's hands pushed his shorts and boxers down enough for him to spring free. Her hand closed around his shaft, gripping him firmly. He shuddered at her touch.

 

“If you get arrested we won’t be able to do this,” she whispered, redirecting his anger. “Remember, you won. He’s lost his career, his reputation, and he never stood a chance with me. I knew he wanted me, I didn’t care. I only had eyes for you.” 

 

Hermione dropped to her knees, she stared up at him, her large brown eyes watching him as she leant forward, mouth open with her tongue extended ready to taste him. He leant back against the door, his eyes stayed fixed on her as she took him in her mouth, stroking his length as her mouth worked his swollen head. He’s too worked up to last long, not for a moment did he look away or shut his eyes. His hands gripped in his own hair to stop from grabbing hers, letting her have this, to do with him as she wishes. 

 

When he came, she closed her mouth around him, swallowing every drop. He dragged her to her feet, kissing her firmly on the lips. She jerked back from him. 

 

“Men don’t kiss after you’ve done… that to them,” Hermione said scrunching her nose. 

 

“Well that’s stupid,” Draco scoffed, “If a girl is willing to do that for you, the very least you can do is give them a kiss.”

 

“Well yeah but they usually wait until after you’ve cleaned your teeth, you know to avoid having to taste themselves.”

 

Sliding his hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her close again. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, she opened her mouth from him. He slid his tongue along hers. 

 

“Now, if it was another man’s cock I was tasting that would be a problem,” Draco whispered against her lips. “The only thing better is getting to eat you out after I’ve finished inside you, tasting us together.”

 

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door leading to the women’s shower room. Draco was still tucking himself away when Hermione opened the door. He turned so his back is to the door as he finally covered his arse. 

 

“Hey, hope I wasn’t interrupting,” Carrie said, “anyway I just wanted to let you know that Amanda and I are completely finished with the shower room so you have it all to  _ yourself.”  _ She finished with a wink. 

 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Hermione smiled, grateful for her friends and the lengthy lunch they’ve been blessed with. 

 

“No problem,” Carrie replied grinning widely. “Nice arse, Hottie.” The door shuts quickly before Draco can respond. 

 

“I don’t know if I like your friends,” Draco glared at the closed door. 

 

“They showered quickly,” Hermione reminded him. 

 

“Oh yay, are you that keen to get away from me.” 

 

Hermione giggled, she opened the door to the other room; it’s completely empty. She left the door open as she started to strip. 

 

“Granger, I’m not allowed in there,” He hissed catching on. 

 

“No one will know,” she said crooking her finger at him before dropping the last of her clothing on the floor. “Your mother owns the team, who’s going to tell you off.”

 

“What if they come back?” Draco said, a pained look on his face as he watched her turn on the shower. 

 

“They aren’t coming back. They showered quickly so  _ we  _ could have the room all to ourselves. Unless of course you don’t want me,” she said stepping backwards into the spray. 

 

Draco was out of his clothes and by her side so fast she was convinced he must have used magic to make it happen. Moving to stand behind her, she shuddered as his hands trace up her sides, one slid down to cup her arse, the other found her breast. Pressing his body against her back, his hard cock slid between her arse cheeks as it folds up between them. His fingers teased her as they slid between her legs. 

 

The wetness he found there isn’t from the shower. With a hand pressed between her shoulder blades he pushed her torso forwards until her hands met the wall bracing herself. 

 

Hermione looked back over her shoulder at him as he slid the tip of his cock through her lips, “Draco, don’t tease.” 

 

“You want this?” he asked letting his swollen head dip just inside her. 

 

“Yes,” she hissed moving her hips to try to get more of him. 

 

“Tell me how you want it.” 

 

“I don’t care I just need it inside me, please,” she begged. 

 

Draco filled her swiftly, encasing himself in her heat. The sounds of slapping flesh drowned out the pounding of the shower as they moved together. When Hermione’s leg started to shake, Draco wrapped his arm tightly around her waist. The pace he set finished them both quickly. 

 

He swallowed as he pants, trying to catch his breath enough to speak, “later, I want to take my time with you.” 

 

“You really are trying to push my stamina,” Hermione laughed. 

 

“Well I  _ am _ your coach. It’s part of the job description.” He pulled out, grabbing a cloth and cleaning between her legs before wiping himself. 

 

“What about the shagging me in the shower? Is that part of the job too,” she giggled turning to face him. 

 

“Just an added bonus,” he winked. 

 

Hermione slapped his chest before turning off the water. She threw Draco a towel, wrapping one around herself. They go back to the kit room, noticing the door they’d left open is now closed. They exchanged a look before Draco turns the handle, throwing the door open. 

 

Someone was there waiting for them. 

 

“Oh, I expected you to take longer than this. Draco, I would like it if you’d join me for lunch, once you’re properly attired of course.”

 

“Depends, am I having lunch with my boss or my mother?” Draco asked sighing. 

 

“Both, of course,” Narcissa said smiling. “We have a lot to discuss.”


	16. Chapter 16

Narcissa Malfoy could kill a mood faster than a cold shower. They dressed quickly, neither inclined to continue their activities when they knew she  was waiting. 

 

“I'm sorry, my mother she-” 

 

“I'm not scared off that easy, remember. Besides, tonight we're going to my place; it's heavily warded, she won't be able to get in unless I invite her.” Hermione smirked. 

 

“That is the best news I've heard all day,” he grinned leaning down to kiss her. 

 

“Better news than Lynch getting sacked? Or that we can be public and not have to hide?” she asked slyly. 

 

“Yep better than those, although they do give me happy tingles. I’m not sure what I’m looking forward to most this evening, the sex or the fact my mother won’t be suddenly appearing. The bloody woman is everywhere,” Draco said as he pulled on a black tank top. 

 

Hermione stared at him, the cut of the top showed off just how muscular his arms were, something that had escaped her notice before now. She knew he looked good in black, the contrast beautiful with his pale skin, but she's never seen him in anything sleeveless. Suddenly, the blue t-shirt was no longer her favourite item of clothing he owns.

 

“If you keep looking at me like that, we’ll be late for whatever my mother wants from us now,” Draco said sighing, pushing his hair out of his face. He smirked as her eyes followed the movement of his muscles in his arms. “I was naked ten minutes ago, you weren’t staring at me this much then.”

 

“When you’re naked you’re usually touching me, which is a little… distracting. I don’t notice things. Certain clothing show off certain features, that top shows just how great your arms are,” Hermione explained running a finger along the swell of the muscle which flexed a little under her touch. 

 

Draco grabbed her hand while opening the door, “swimming is great for the arms,” he explained gruffly, his cheeks aflame, as he pulled her from the room. He couldn’t be alone with her when she was looking at him like that.

 

Entering the team restuarant it seemed strange to see someone as elegant as Narcissa Malfoy sat in a basic metal chair at a basic metal table. They approached her together, there is the slightest twitch in her cheek as she resisted smiling at their joined hands. 

 

“Miss Granger, it appears your friends are waiting for you,” Narcissa said nodding in the direction of Amanda and Carrie, Amanda waved at her. Hermione glanced at Draco who barely inclined his head indicating they should do as his mother wished. Hoping this isn’t a sign of things to come, Hermione left mother and son alone. When she sat with her friends she angled herself to be able to watch them out of the corner of her eye. 

 

“Is your plotting getting you what you want mother?” Draco said taking a seat, glaring at his mother. 

 

“No need to be like that son, just remember that everything I do, I do for the betterment of this family,” Narcissa said sipping from a teacup that definitely was not found in the canteen. 

 

“Quoting him now? Really mother? I will not be a pawn in your games like I was in his,” Draco said pushing his plate away. 

 

“Oh Draco, you’re never a pawn to me. A bishop maybe but absolutely not a pawn,” she chuckled. 

 

“Mother, be serious.”

 

“Where is the fun in that? I don’t see what you’re complaining about, if it weren’t for my interference you’d still be spending everyday in the pool. Surely Miss Granger’s company is enough to make you not resent my schemes so much.”

 

“Are you trying to claim complete responsibility for setting us up?” Draco scoffed.

 

“Not completely, I’m sure you had  _ something  _ to do with it too, however were it not for me, how would you have crossed paths. I’ve been keeping my eye on that young lady for quite some time,” Narcissa admitted.

 

“Hermione? Why?”

 

“For the reason every queen plays the game, to protect my king. Have you told her? About him?”

 

“Not yet,” Draco said looking down at his food. 

 

“You should. She needs to know,” Narcissa said softly. 

 

“I will. Is that what this was all about?”

 

“The road for you both won’t be easy, keeping secrets will drive her away. Tell her everything, Draco. Please? You know she’s watching us closely, she’s very protective of you,” Narcissa smiled. 

 

“The feeling is mutual,” Draco mumbled. “You mentioned wanting to talk as my mother and my boss. That was very much as my mother, where does being my boss come into the discussion?”

 

“Ah yes, that. The showers, Draco? Really I thought you would have more class than that. It’s hardly a responsible use of company property,” she laughed.

 

“Hermione talked me into,” he replied, cheeks reddening. 

 

“Oh yes, and I suppose that took a lot of persuasion?”

 

“I don’t want to discuss my sex life with you.”

 

“Then at least attempt to be a little discreet.”

 

“Your little announcement made that unnecessary.”

 

“Are you upset that everyone knows about your relationship or that I’m now openly owning the team instead of hiding in the shadows?”

 

“I don’t like being surprised. Perhaps next time you could tell me first, it would be nice to be treated like an adult occasionally,” he admitted. 

 

His mother opened her mouth, closing it again quickly. He had done it, he had finally done the impossible. He robbed his mother of speech.

 

“Perhaps you have a point,” she said carefully placing her cup down on the table. 

 

Draco’s jaws dropped open, his mother admitted he was right. He stared at her in shock as she gets up. 

 

“I would encourage you to try to eat something, but I expect once I’ve left a certain young lady will take my place and do that job far more effectively. I’ll see you when you next make it home,” Narcissa said leaving quickly. 

 

Before Draco can properly process her words, Hermione filled the seat his mother vacated. 

 

“Whatever it was your mother said this time, we can discuss it later. Now, let’s eat. Need to keep our strength up,” Hermione said winking at him. She gently pushed his plate of untouched food towards him, biting her lip. 

 

Picking up his fork, he smiled at her before digging in. He ignored her sigh of relief as he started to eat. That afternoon is her first practice flying with the team. They discuss strategies she may need. As they eat and talk, Amanda and Carrie come to join them, other members of the team begin gathering round them. Hermione moved to sit beside him, taking his hand. None of the team glared at Draco, no one stared at the scar on his arm. 

 

Just as he was beginning to relax and have fun chatting, hands cover Hermione’s eyes. 

 

“Guess who?” 


	17. Chapter 17

“Guess who?” a voice behind Hermione said. Both her and Draco stiffened as someone other than him touches her. 

 

Hermione peelef the hands from her eyes, turning to see who it was. 

 

“Ollie!” She said shouting jumping from her seat to hug him. 

 

“I heard you were playing here, but it didn’t seem real,” Oliver laughed hugging her tightly. 

 

Draco could feel Amanda and Carrie watching him as his girlfriend hugged another man. He’d been prepared for Potter and Weasley to touch her, it hadn’t occurred to him that she would have other male friends that would do the same. He tried to wait out the pounding in his ears as he stared at Oliver Wood’s hands sat lower on Hermione’s back than he’s comfortable with. 

 

Breaking the new keeper’s hands probably wasn’t a good idea. 

 

Words broke through to him as he started to calm.

 

“-much since we broke up,” Hermione was saying. 

 

Broke up.

 

Oliver Wood was her ex?!

 

He realised that from the looks on Amanda and Carrie’s faces they knew this. Of course they did. Hermione’s relationships have probably always been something of interest to the Wizarding public. He hadn’t been keen on opening newspapers in the last few years. Did his mother know the new keeper was Hermione’s ex? 

 

As his mind raced he realised the other man is  _ still  _ touching Hermione. He got to his feet and coughs. Hermione jumped away, blushing under his gaze. His brain managed to note the blush was caused by the heat in his eyes not anything the other man had said or done. 

 

“Oliver, you remember Draco from school?”

 

“I do,” Oliver said looking him over, eyes lingering on his arms folded across his chest. One spot in particular captured his attention. 

 

“He’s different now,” Hermione said defensively. 

 

“I hope he is, he was a little shit at school. Good flier though. What are you doing here, Malfoy?”

 

“I’m her…” Draco hesitated looking to Hermione to fill the gap. 

Hermione searched his face, looking for hints to what he wanted her to say but he’s shut down, the mask is up and firmly in place. 

 

“He’s here as my coach, but he’s… he’s also my boyfriend,” Hermione admitted. 

 

Oliver’s jaw fell open as he stared at them bemused. Draco’s arm bearing his scar wrapped around her waist, drawing her back to him as his chin slid onto her shoulder. She relaxed into him keeping an eye on Oliver, waiting for his reaction.

 

“Makes sense I suppose, he is your type,” Oliver grinned. 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione said frowning. 

 

“Tall, Quidditch obsessed, possessive. McLaggen, Weasley, Krum, me, now Malfoy; it’s what we’ve all got in common,” Wood laughed.

 

“I didn’t know you were that interested in my personal life,” Hermione said stiffening. 

 

“Just looking out for you, Mia,” he murmured, blushing a little. 

 

“You don’t get to call me that; not after what you did,” she hissed at him. 

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. It just… happened. Rebounding by getting back with McLaggen was a low blow though.”

 

“You cheated on me! With Marcus Flint! Seeing me back with McLaggen hurt? Good, that was the point,” Hermione replied, unaware of their audience, “and you can’t tell me it was a mistake. People don’t marry their mistakes.”

 

“We invited you to the wedding.”

 

“On the day that should have been our second anniversary.”

 

“Oh. I knew the date was familiar for something,” Oliver said frowning, scratching his head. “Harry and the Weasleys still came. I thought maybe we could have patched things up, still been friends. I've missed us, the way we were before.”

 

“Is that why you’re here now?”

 

“I heard you were playing. I’m probably the one person who wasn’t shocked, that you would do this. Being with you is hard, you always have to be the best, at everything. You always have to be right. What’s next after this? Are you going to train hard and become a chess master too?”

 

“I don’t  _ always  _ have to be right,” she said staring at the ground. Oliver laughed hard. “I can’t help it if I usually am.”

 

“Well Malfoy, good luck to you. She will often make you feel like an idiot so you better have a thick skin,” Oliver warned him. 

 

Draco felt Hermione’s breath catch, “I can take it. I  _ am  _ smarter than the average wizard, and despite the excessive amount of ego I possess, I am very aware that she’s completely out of my league. I know she can do better, it will take a lot more than that to make me reconsider this. Now, my player has her first whole team practice soon, we need to have one more talk before that happens. Please, excuse us,” Draco said letting go of Hermione’s waist, taking her hand leading her out of the room, making sure to shoulder past Oliver causing him to stumble. 

 

Rushing them to their kit room, Draco slammed the door shut behind them. 

 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his hands cupping her cheeks, eyes searching her face to attempt to answer his own question.

 

“Am I… Am I really that bad?” she asked.

 

“You are frequently condescending, I'm a moody bastard that has panic attacks around a lot of people, we all have our faults. We just have to find people who don't get pissed off with our faults. Do my faults piss you off enough to walk away?” he asked leaning into her space as she stands with her back against the door. 

 

She shook her head as she stared at him, not trusting her voice feeling a sob logged in her throat. His fingers under her chin angle her face upwards, “I'm not enough of an idiot to walk away from the best thing to ever happen to me over something stupid.” 

 

He brushed his lips against hers, working across her jaw down across her throat with little kisses, “do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently near her ear. 

 

“I loved him, and I found him in bed with another man. It hurt more than if it had been a woman, they'd been friends for so long, I have no idea how long it was going on. I was a fool.” 

 

“You can guarantee that won't happen with me,” he muttered still kissing near her ear, he's pretty sure he's left a mark or two. 

 

“Yeah? How do I know that?” she asked a little breathless. 

 

“I have no friends. The only people who willing speak to me are you and my mother,” he told her. 

 

“Really?” she asked pulling him away from her. 

 

“What part of ‘recluse who has panic attacks around people’ makes you think I've been sociable at all?” 

 

“But those dates you've had?” 

 

“Ah mother's attempts at setting me up with any Pureblood woman who would even consider me? None of them stayed, they didn't come back. My friends haven't spoke to me since just after my trial; I didn't want them tainted by association.” 

 

“Sounds lonely,” she whispered. 

 

“I'm not alone anymore though,” he said kissing her once more. “It's time to get changed into your team gear, first real practice with them. Your boyfriend wasted all our time,” he sighed. 

 

“You're my boyfriend,” she giggled. 

 

“Right now, I'm your coach,” he winked, walking backwards to the cupboard they don't open; her team robes. He pulled on his own official team coaching gear as Hermione pulled on the robes she's to wear every time the whole team flies. Draco kept smirking at her neck, making her suspicious but without a mirror, she can't confirm her suspicions. She's sure Carrie and Amanda will tell her. 

 

Draco waited for her, leaning near the door to the pitch. She took a deep breath fingers reaching for the handle. This was what she had been working towards, the chance to fly with a team. 

 

Sunlight blinded her as she took a step out of the room, she could feel Draco right behind her, handing her her broom. 

 

It was time to fly. 


	18. Chapter 18

Despite having been her coach, he hadn’t seen her really fly before. Seeing it in person was different than through his mother’s pensieve memories. She really was very good. He’d been focused on increasing her fitness and stamina, something the night before showed they both had plenty of. He was stood close to the other coaches as they watch the team practice. 

 

He’d only spoken to the head coach before and he was currently up in the air while the rest watched from the ground. Every player had their own coach, the chasers coaches were overseen by a coach that worked with them all. Then there was the deputy coach who helped to oversee them all; which basically meant there was a lot of people stood around not doing very much. 

 

They all seemed to know each other well, even the new guy, Wood’s coach, seemed to know everyone already. Draco was uncomfortable. He focused his attention on Hermione, wishing he could be in the air with her. He hated being ignored but didn’t like the prospect of having to talk to so many people. He knew it was only a matter of time until one of them tried to include him. 

 

Hermione catches the snitch for the second time, he smirks, pleased she’s doing well. 

 

“You’re seeker is doing great,” one of the men said, moving away from the group closer to Draco. 

 

“Yeah she is,” Draco said a little abruptly. The man moved back to the others. Draco  still wasn't great with other people. He’s not sure he ever will be. 

  
  


Up in the air was a different world. The air feels fresh and clean whipping against her face. Stresses just fall away when she flew as though, when going this fast, nothing can keep up with her. She’s never shared the air with this many people before. The main team, the reserves and the head coach means there are fifteen broomsticks flying around. She’s almost had two collisions, the coach deemed neither her fault, saying that once the Seeker is speeding everyone else is supposed to move out of the Seeker’s way. It made sense but she still felt bad. 

 

To catch the snitch the second time she does a mid air roll, it wasn’t really necessary. She knew she was showing off but she couldn’t help herself. It’s moments like this when she understand why so many Quidditch players have over inflated egos. Achievement here doesn’t feel the same way that academic achievement does. 

 

There’s a certain rush that only existed on the sports field. It’s the combination of hard work, skill, talent and luck that was so addictive. When she's up here, she never wants to land. The world narrowed to the end of her broom; if she'd had known it could feel like this, she would have started much sooner. 

 

Perhaps it's for the best that she hadn't felt this way before, that she hadn't felt the rush, felt how exhilarating this could be. Her ability to learn and retain information had kept them alive. Flying would have compromised her abilities. 

 

The third time they race, the snitch slips through her fingers. He's there, the other seeker, he nabbed it right out from beneath her grasping hand. He smirked at her as he released it and it flies off again. 

 

The desire to catch the snitch burns hotter after losing it the once. She began to understand why Harry and Draco became so inflamed over this little golden ball, and why it mattered so much who caught it. The fourth time she caught it, she heard a whoop from near the goalposts that dampened her smirk a little. 

 

A whistle called them down to the ground, snitch still fluttering in her fist. The coaches stand on one side of a circle, the players form the other side. Hermione instinctively fell in place beside Draco, her knuckles brushed against his, though they resist the urge to grip hands. 

 

Hermione should be paying attention to the what the head coach is saying, but her body is still thrumming in time with the beat of the wings. It's what she kept him around for, to listen when she can't. She shifted from foot to foot, anxious to move. Standing still moments after landing is practically impossible. Draco glanced at her, before quickly refocusing his attention on the head coach. 

 

It took far too much time for him to release them, Hermione finally slid her hand into his, cuddling into his side. Snitch is handed back to the deputy coach to be put away.

 

“You did great up there,” Draco said kissing her head as they turn to walk towards their kit room.

 

“Thanks,” she said smiling up at him. 

 

“You didn't hear a word of the debrief did you?”

 

“Nope.” 

 

Draco sighed causing Hermione to giggle. Her laughter stopped as Oliver caught up to them. He began walking beside them but they ignore him. He moved to walk in front of them, turning around so he's walking backwards. 

 

“I'm sorry, that was not how I wanted today to go,” Oliver said looking between them, glancing at their joined hands. “I should have behaved better.”

 

“Yes. You should've,” Draco said stonily. 

 

Oliver held his hand out to Draco. “perhaps we can start over?” 

 

Draco awkwardly shook his hand with the wrong hand; not willing to let go of Hermione for anything, especially her ex. 

 

“Come for dinner tonight?” Oliver asked them. 

 

“We have plans,” Hermione replied pulling Draco closer to her letting go of his hand to wrap her arm around his waist. 

 

“Maybe tomorrow night Draco could come for a boys night,” Oliver said. 

 

“Friday is still dinner with Harry and Ginny,” Hermione reminded Oliver. 

 

“Yes but surely…” 

 

“Ginny invited me,” Draco informed him stiffly. 

 

“Ginny doesn't like anyone,” Oliver said incredulous. 

 

“She wants the chance to get to know Draco,” Hermione said smiling sweetly. 

 

“Saturday?”

 

“Plans,” Draco said. 

 

“Sunday?” 

 

“Plans,” Hermione answered. 

 

“On a Sunday? There's only one place you go on a Sunday are you really taking him  _ there _ .” 

 

“Yes. It will be a lovely day.” 

 

“You can't avoid me forever,” Oliver teased before turning and walking off. 

 

“Wanna bet?” Draco muttered at Oliver's retreating back. Hermione slapped him on the chest as he started to laugh. 

 

“That's not nice,” she said trying to resist a laugh of her own. 

 

“Have you met me? Since when is ‘nice’ a word someone uses to describe me,” he scoffed. 

 

“You're nice to me,” Hermione reminded him.

 

“Well yeah. You give me sex.” Draco rolled his eyes before dodging another slap. “What is your thing with hitting me?”

 

“Well, sometimes just being around you gives me these urges-”

 

“Understandable,” Draco smirked straightening his shoulders. 

 

“The murderous kind.” 

 

“Still understandable.” Draco shrugged. Hermione gave into giggles, Draco ran a hand through his hair before joining in her laughter. 

  
  


From inside their kit room, Hermione Apparated them into her living room. Finally alone, they stripped in seconds. Hermione pushed naked Draco down onto her sofa, straddling him. Neither of them need foreplay, more than ready to go without anymore delaying. Gripping his cock to hold it steady, she slid down his length, filling herself with him with a satisfied groan. 

 

Hermione found a pace that worked for them both as Draco's mouth travelled down her neck as he moved beneath her, thrusting up, his hips increasing the pace of hers. 

 

Both are getting close when the fireplace roared to life. 

 

Hermione forgot to shut the floo. 

 

“Argh my eyes,” Harry said as Hermione grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa, wrapping it around her back concealing them both. 

 

“You could have knocked,” Draco said annoyed. 

 

“Believe me, I wish I had,” Harry replied hands still over his eyes. 

 

“Harry, go wait in the kitchen,” Hermione ordered. Harry did as he was told, eyes still covered, bumping into the door frame. 

 

Hermione rests her forehead against Draco's until a crash indicated Harry had reached the kitchen. 

 

“Once, just once I'd love for us not to get interrupted,” Draco all but growled, glaring in the direction of Harry. 

 

“I'll get rid of him,” Hermione said standing up taking the blanket with her. 

 

“What am I supposed to use to for my dignity?” he said as he's left naked on her sofa. 

 

Reaching to the armchair beside her, Hermione grabbed the smallest of the four cushions chucking it at him. 

 

“I need a bigger cushion than this,” he said cockily. 

 

“No, you really don't,” Hermione giggled as he holds the cushion over himself, barely covering the family jewels. 

 

“That was mean,” he shouted after her. 

 

“Well I guess you're rubbing off on me,” Hermione shouted back as she reached the kitchen. 

 

“Looks like he was doing more than ‘rubbing off’,” Harry said from where he's leaning against the counter with his arms folded. Harry's eyes drifted over her, taking in the bite mark on her neck and disheveled hair. “We have movie nights on that sofa, Hermione.” Harry whined at her. 

 

“I'll scourgify it.” Hermione shrugged. “That's what you and Ginny do right? Why are you here, Harry?” 

 

“I wanted a chance to talk to you without him around,” Harry said nodding towards the living room. “I did  _ not  _ expect to walk in on you riding his broomstick.” 

 

“Oh ha ha, very funny,” Hermione said she tried clapping sarcastically but struggled as she's still holding the blanket that slipped a little. She managed to catch it before it reveals anything. “We can talk tomorrow; we'll go up to the drawing room and leave Draco and Ginny in the kitchen while you ask me whatever was so important it couldn't wait until I came to your house.”

 

“You don't normally mind me just popping over.”

 

“You always knocked before coming over when I was with Ollie,” Hermione reminded him. 

 

“I didn't realise you were at that stage yet. Anyway, you used to bar the floo if he was over.”

 

“I didn't get a chance, I got too distracted,” Hermione said blushing. “We barely made it to the sofa.” 

 

“I do not need to hear the details, ick,” Harry said. As he moved through the living room, he can't help but glance towards the nearly naked man on her sofa. “That cushion is not big enough.” Harry laughed. 

 

“That's what I said,” Draco said pressing it down, blushing a little. 

 

“Stop ogling my boyfriend and leave,” Hermione said huffing pointing to the fireplace. 

 

“Alright, I get the hint. I'll see you tomorrow,” Harry said before stepping into the fireplace. As he disappeared in a flash of green flame, Hermione sealed the fireplace so no one else can come through. 

 

Dropping down onto the sofa on his right, Draco chucked the cushion to his left. Looking down at his lap he sighed. “This is why I hate everyone that isn't you.” 

 

“I can take care of that,” Hermione said following his eyes to his lap, letting the blanket fall as she leant in to kiss him again. After all, they had all night together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All caught up with content that has been up on ffn


	19. Chapter 19

Draco had woken up much earlier than he usually did, but despite the late night he had shared with Hermione he barely felt tired at all. Unsure if he should wake her or let her sleep, he amused himself by counting her breaths as he replayed the memories of the night before. 

 

Draco had made it his mission that night to ‘make memories’ on every surface, in every room. He'd been disappointed to discover just how small Hermione's flat was. Hearing Potter’s comment about using the sofa, had only made him more determined to leave no place untouched.

 

The ‘table’ in her kitchen was barely big enough but they made it work. Once they finished, Hermione put on an apron and cooked them dinner, as they’d barely eaten at the manor, while he sat on the table watching. Neither had bothered to dress. Draco had never enjoyed watching someone cook as much as he did then. He couldn't remember now what they'd eaten. It had tasted good, whatever it was. He mostly just enjoyed the view. Having never been this involved with someone before, the domesticity was unfamiliar to him. 

 

Not wanting to be caught watching her sleep, at the first sign she was stirring he closed his eyes tight. Hermione giggled when she noticed his pathetic imitation of sleep. 

 

“The only way that could be less convincing is if you were snoring too,” Hermione said whacking his chest. 

 

“Malfoy’s do not snore; pretend or otherwise,” Draco said opening his eyes and stretching. 

 

“That’s what you think,” Hermione snorted. 

 

Draco paused, staring at her in disbelief, “I. Do. Not. Snore.” 

 

Hermione giggled again. 

 

“No, you don’t but I had you worried, just a little bit.”

 

“That wasn’t funny.” Draco pouted. 

 

“I thought it was,” Hermione replied. 

 

“Yeah but you laugh at Weasley’s jokes.”

 

“Be nice…”

 

“To Weasley? We’ll see how well I manage to be nice to Potter and Little Red first. That won’t be as painful,” Draco said sinking back into the pillows. 

 

“The nicer you are to my friends the more inclined I am to have lots of sex.”

 

“As if you aren’t already,” Draco scoffed. “You know, it’s cruel to be talking about sex when we have to get up.” 

 

Shifting across the bed,  Draco wrapped Hermione up in his arms. 

 

“I could get used to this. Having you here in the morning like this,” Hermione said sighing as she settled deeper into his arms. 

 

“We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon. Saying things like that doesn’t make it easier to leave this bed,” Draco whispered against her ear. 

 

Groaning Hermione sat up, covers sinking to her waist as she stretched. Draco reached for her, eyes fixated on her exposed breasts. 

 

“No,” Hermione said ducking away from him, stepping out of the bed. “We will actually be late. We need breakfast and to shower.”

 

“I've got something you could eat,” Draco said throwing back the covers and wrapping his hand around his hard cock. 

 

Hermione laughed, “that's not exactly a nutritious breakfast.” Her eyes followed the progress of his hand as he began to slowly stroke himself. 

 

“Well, I guess if I can't tempt you to join me I'll have to take care of this all by myself,” Draco sighed dramatically, throwing his free arm above his head, his body stretched out across her bed. His eyes stayed fixed on her as he pleasured himself. 

 

When he moaned her name, her self-control broke, climbing back into the bed, she crawled over to him. Her hand replaced his as he grinned at her. “I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me.” 

 

Draco watched as she took him in her mouth. She worked her lips and tongue around him in the ways she knew he liked most, trying to bring him as fast as she could. Gentle strokes and light pressure on his perineum pushed him over the edge. 

 

“Wow,” Draco said collapsing back against the pillows. 

 

“Glad you liked it, now we have to get dressed. We have ten minutes to get to the stadium,” Hermione said trying to get up. 

 

“No, I’m not ready yet. The morning is for working on your physical fitness anyway. I’d much rather do that right here,” Draco said pushing her to lay down. He lifted one of her legs, mimicking one of the stretches they do, sliding his semi-hard cock across her clit making her lose all the protests she had about attending the morning session. “Do you want to leave right now?”

 

“No,” she answered breathily. 

 

“Because I could stop,” Draco teased. 

 

“Don’t you dare,” Hermione said her hips bucking trying to get more of him. 

 

Giving in, Draco slipped inside her, filling her in one thrust. They moved slowly together, taking their time to reach their climax. Hands gently roamed each others bodies, tracing paths they had quickly become familiar with. They gasped out their release clinging to each other. Draco was the first to break the silence. 

 

“Maybe… maybe we could stay here all day,” Draco suggested not eager to leave her embrace. 

 

Hermione’s answer is cut off by a sound at her window. They both looked up to see an owl tapping with a large letter attached. 

 

“The bloody woman can’t leave me alone, can she?” Draco grumbled moving to let the bird in. “we’re not even that late yet.”

 

The owl flew away after Draco took the envelope, not waiting for an answer. The little colour he had, drained from his face as he read the contents. Summoning his clothes, Draco got dressed quickly not even bothering to wash up first. 

 

“Whatever happens, stay here. Do not leave the flat. Do not go to the stadium today. I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll try to come back as soon as I can,” Draco said quickly. Hermione had no chance to respond as he disappeared out of her bedroom. She’s barely stepped from the bed calling after him as she heard her floo go off. 

 

Wrapping a robe around herself, Hermione made it to the living room just as the flames died back down. A thump from the kitchen indicated that her morning paper had arrived much later than it would normally. Picking it up Hermione gasped as she read the front page. 

 

_ Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, escapes from St Mungo’s secure ward.  _


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione read the Daily Prophet article three times before discarding the paper. Rita Skeeter had written it so Hermione tried to read through the sensationalist journalism to find some concrete facts. Some things were a matter of court record such as Lucius had been sentenced to serve his remaining prison time inside the secure wards a St Mungo’s, the exact reasonings weren’t specified. His sentence had finished over a year ago but a decision had been made between the healers and the family for Lucius to remain in the ward. Upon Lucius’ incarceration full control of the Malfoy fortune had been signed over to Narcissa. 

 

The article implied Lucius was dangerous but seemed to hover between suggesting he was a danger to himself or that he was a danger to others. 

 

It had been two hours since Draco left. Hermione had dressed with every intention of leaving the house, but when she was reaching for the floo powder her indignation at being told to stay evaporated. 

 

There was no way to know exactly where Draco was right now. Here was where he would look for her when there was something to tell. She didn't even know where she would start to look for them. The Manor? The stadium? Wandering listlessly around the streets? 

 

Would Narcissa be out looking too? Or under Auror guard? Had Draco ordered his mother to wait somewhere too? 

 

The fireplace roared to life, out stepped Narcissa. Draco quickly followed. Narcissa looked a little ruffled, Hermione had not seen the woman with so much as a hair out of place since the war had ended. 

 

“Draco, I am a grown woman and can decide for myself what’s best for me. I can…” 

 

“No,” Draco said with a tone that indicated further discussion would not be accepted. “Stay here. I don’t trust those Aurors. I want you  _ safe  _ from him. Granger, protect my mother. Keep her here. There’s no way he would look here. No one knows about us yet. If he comes, do not hesitate.”

The fireplace roared to life again, Draco disappeared into the flames before either woman could say a word to stop him. 

 

“Well really,” Narcissa said huffing and staring at the fireplace. “There’s really no need for him to be like this.” Narcissa began pacing the room as Hermione watched. The folded paper caught Narcissa’s eye, she quickly snatched it up. 

 

Hermione was desperate for some answers but the questions wouldn't come to her. Twice she opened her mouth to speak before thinking better of it. 

 

“Trash, as usual,” Narcissa said throwing the paper into the fireplace. “I suppose my son still hasn't told you about his father?” 

 

“No,” Hermione answered quietly watching her fingers twisting in her lap. 

 

“I understand you have no reason to be concerned for my husband's well being. Or at least, before you became involved with Draco there was no reason why you would be concerned. They offered him something experimental that if it worked would reduce his sentence. They went through his mind removing selected memories to try to rehabilitate him. It worked in a sense, he's no longer prejudiced against muggleborns, but now he believes our downfall was my fault. Even after they removed the memory of when I lied to the Dark Lord that Potter was dead, he still believes I caused all the problems for our family. His mind was fragile before the healers started chopping bits away. Everyday is different. Sometimes he's sweet and gentle, sometimes he's moody and uncooperative. Mostly… mostly he wants me dead. Twice he's tried to strangle me when I was visiting. Draco believe Lucius has broken out to hunt me down. Something that's very possible. I wasn't at home last night, when I returned this morning it looked like a herd of hippogriffs had rampaged their way through my home,” Narcissa finished, looking anywhere but at Hermione. 

 

The silence that followed stretched out between them. Hermione was waiting to see if there was anything more. They had still been feeling their way towards a relationship. The woman in front of her didn’t seem visibly upset. However, this was the woman who had looked Lord Voldemort in the eye and lied. She was a hard woman to read. The time in which to comfort was slowly passing her by but the words still stuck in Hermione’s throat. She was saved by the fireplace. 

 

Both women jumped at the noise, Hermione let out a small squeak as she automatically got to her feet, wand out. The action was involuntary, the other woman was mimicking her stance. At the ends of their wands stood a very distressed looking Harry Potter. 

 

“Hermione, I came to check on you. I didn’t expect you to have a house guest,” Harry said standing by the fireplace, hands raised in front of himself. When his eyes lingered on Narcissa’s wand, his hand twitched towards his wand but stayed in the air. Hermione was grateful. 

 

“Draco dropped her off,” Hermione said simply. 

 

“I see. Well I’ll let the Aurors know she’s safe and under protection. Have you heard much from Draco? No one seems to be able to find him. It’s dividing our resources,” Harry said sighing. 

 

“My son left about thirty minutes ago. I don’t know where he is or where he was planning to go. I feel it’s unnecessary to look for him. He will be searching Lucius, find him and Draco won’t be far behind,” Narcissa explained. 

 

“Okay. Okay. I’m in charge of the operation. I’ll focus all our resources just on him. Any hints about where to look?” 

 

“My husband is insane, Mr Potter. Logic may not be your best course of action,” Narcissa said with a slight smile. 

 

Harry blinked stupidly, “Right, well I’m leaving. Both of you stay here.” 

 

He gave them one last look before jumping into the flames. 

 

Both women lowered their wands in unison. 

 

“I’m sick of these  _ men  _ telling us we have to stay. We are not feeble women,” Hermione said with a huff. 

 

“Just because they tell us to stay, doesn’t mean we have to. Did we agree not to leave? Or did they just order us not to leave before disappearing themselves. I’m sorry if this puts you in a difficult position but I have no intention of staying here. I’m sure your home is lovely but I would rather enjoy your company in other way,” Narcissa said smiling brightly. Hermione had never seen her smile in such a way, it unnerved her. “Come with me. Help me find my husband. It will be far less dangerous if we are together, don’t you agree?” 

 

Hermione smiled. “Where do we start?”

 

“Oh, I have an idea or two,” the older woman replied. “This will be fun.” 


	21. Chapter 21

Some moments in life seem so surreal they must be a dream. Standing beside Narcissa on a deserted moor, wind blowing their hair and cloaks, wands ready by their sides, felt like one of those moments. 

 

“Do you feel it?” Narcissa said. Hermione glanced at her to see her eyes closed, intense concentration on her face. 

 

The scent of magic was heavy in the air. Hermione could feel it raising the hairs on the back of her neck, she could taste it on her tongue. 

 

“I feel it,” Hermione said. She wasn't sure how anyone could stand here and not feel it. 

 

“We will have to go on foot from here. Tread carefully, Lucius likes to set up little traps. I doubt he had time before taking cover but just in case…” Narcissa trailed off. 

 

They walked for an hour. Neither spoke. The only sound was the wind. The soft ground stole the sound of their footsteps. Hermione walked with her hand stretched out in front of her, feeling the air for any change. She had walked face first into wards before, an experience she had no desire to repeat. Her fingers came into contact with a cool, clear, hard surface lingering in the air. She felt for the edges of it but it was too wide.

 

“I found something,” Hermione said causing Narcissa to rush over to her. Hermione's hand stayed spread against the barrier. 

 

“Oh goody. Now for some real fun,” Narcissa said. “Stand back please.” 

 

Hermione moved to be standing just a little behind Narcissa watching as she unravelled the wards Hermione had stumbled across. After twenty minutes of wandwork, Narcissa sighed. 

 

“So crude,” she said disappointed as she took out a knife, making a small cut on her arm sprinkling the air with her blood. The wards shimmered like green crystal before sinking into the ground. “Honestly, I really expected better from him.” 

 

Hermione watched as a small thatched cottage came into view. It was hardly the type of building she expected Lucius Malfoy to be hiding out in, but maybe that was precisely why he was hiding here. 

 

Amusement fell from Narcissa’s face as they got closer to the little house. Hermione gripped her wand tighter, her ears straining to hear anything above the wind that buffeted them. 

 

Once they reached the door, Narcissa's hand hovered over the door knob, feeling the air for anything unusual. Eventually, her hand closed around the door knob, twisting it slowly as she pushed the door wide. She waited a moment before gently stepping across the threshold. She gestured for Hermione to follow her into the cottage. 

 

As with many wizard dwellings, the exterior didn't match with what it contained. It seemed more like a townhouse than a traditional country cottage. The ceiling was too high, the entryway too big. From somewhere deeper inside the house, classic music could be heard. Narcissa smiled fondly before beginning to hum along, all tension gone from her body. Hermione stayed alert. 

 

Narcissa seemed to know exactly where to go, not bothering to check behind any closed doors they passed. A door was ajar ahead of them, the music got louder and louder as they got near. Large double doors opened at Narcissa’s approach. 

 

The sight that greeted them made Hermione gasp. Her wand dropped to hang uselessly by her side. The music… the music was being played by Lucius Malfoy. He sat at a large grand piano, fingers dancing over the keys, drawing from them a beautiful melody that filled the air. His wand was visible sat on top of the piano. Hermione wondered where he would have got it, surely he hadn’t had it on him in the hospital? 

 

As the last note reverberated around them, Lucius turned to face them. He made no attempt to reach for his wand. He smiled at them as he saw them, stood in the large double door, wands still at their sides, just in case. 

 

“Welcome, Miss Granger. Narcissa told me much about you on her last visit. Please, join me for tea, we have much to discuss and not much time to do it in,” Lucius said standing from the piano, gesturing towards the small table set for three in the bay window. 

 

Hermione looked to Narcissa who nodded before pulling Hermione over to the table. “Keep your wand in reach, just in case, but he seems rather lucid right now, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

Narcissa fussed over the table as Hermione sat and stared at Lucius. He was different, she just wasn’t quite sure what the changes were. He had left his wand at the piano. He watched Narcissa. Occasionally a dark shadow would flicker behind his eyes before it was suppressed. He seemed like a ticking time bomb, poised to go off at the moment when it would cause the most deversation possible. Narcissa was right though, at that moment, he was rather lucid. 

 

“Opportunities for me to slip away are few and far between these days and I would really prefer that this meeting take place away from the healers where I can be more myself. I agreed, in desperation, to allowing strangers to take away my memories. Some days I wonder if the Kiss would have been a better option. Pieces of myself were ripped away. I am not quite as unstable as the healers believe me to be. However, I was the experiment and this is not something that should be done unless absolutely necessary. If they believed it worked as they intended, I shudder to think of the consequences of that, of how far it would be taken. No, the mind should be left untampered,” Lucius said, he held her gaze as he spoke. Hermione found herself agreeing with him, though the words could not come out. Still hesitant about what all this meant. “I wished to meet you properly, even if it is only once. Narcissa told me about yourself and Draco. I have no wish to attempt to part you or interfere in anyway, my wife manages that just fine I’m assuming. Whatever is between you is still new of course, but you have breathed life into him again and for that you have our thanks. Many parts of our estate were set in a way that meant, as a Muggleborn, you would have had limited access. I have changed all the warding to remove this element. There is no danger to you being in our home anymore. I wish I could do more for my son other than removing this barrier, but at least now he is free to choose his future however he likes.” 

 

Hermione was stunned. Lucius had escaped only to facilitate her being able to join the family. Narcissa didn’t seem surprised at all. They both kept smiling at her and exchanging glances. It appeared neither believed she would be a negative addition to their “pure” bloodline. The shock was beginning to wear off. She hadn’t anticipated that this would turn into a social occasion. She carefully sipped her tea. 

 

“Our visit can’t last long today. No one knows about this cottage but we can’t be away for long. We’ll make a nice show of looking elsewhere for him though,” Narcissa said smirking. 

 

They left an awkward twenty minutes later. They had talked briefly about flying. Hermione went red when Narcissa mentioned Hermione was fond of swimming, even worse when Lucius suggested she take advantage of the pool in the Manor. 

 

“I suppose it’s time to go get caught,” Lucius said with a sigh, “always an unpleasant experience. Those Aurors do like to be a little rough with me.” 

 

“Make sure you get caught by Harry, he’ll treat you fairly,” Hermione suggested. 

 

“You believe that? He hates me more than the others who served the Dark Lord,” Lucius replied. 

 

“He does, but he would never let that affect his work, he’s far too noble for that,” Hermione said. Lucius only nodded. 

 

Narcissa got up, indicating it was time for them to leave. Hermione hovered as the couple said goodbye. Her instinct said to give them some space, but there had been signs that not everything was okay with Lucius, she wondered how much truth there was to the belief that he was dangerous. 

 

Once they were outside Narcissa spoke, “thank you for today. I know that must have been difficult.”

 

“It’s okay. I won’t lie to Draco though,” Hermione said. 

 

“Let’s go back to your home and wait for him to come. That way we can tell him together,” Narcissa said. 

 

Once they reached the boundaries of the wards around the cottage they Apparated back to Hermione’s flat. Someone was already there waiting. Draco sat in the armchair, he didn’t even look up as they arrived, his attention fixed on his fingers drumming on the arm of the chair. The two women exchanged a glance. 

 

Draco’s eyes lifted to meet Hermione’s. Never in all the time she had known him had she seen his eyes so cold. Even Narcissa flinched under his icy glare. 

 

“Draco, we can explain…” Hermione began before trailing off. 

 

“Oh I hope so,” Draco practically growled. “I really fucking hope so.” 

 

**A/N** good news/bad news. 

Good news - all my funding for my final year of university has been approved. 

Bad news - I have no idea when I'll get the chance to update this fic again. 

University has to be my priority. Any fic writing I do once uni starts will be procrastination from my actual work I'm supposed to be doing. 

On Friday 24th BTS is releasing their next album so I'll be disappearing into that fandom for a few weeks trying to work on my theory for the storyline while I do prep work for the upcoming university year. 


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